


The Little Things

by Koroshimasu



Category: Adam (2009), Charlie Countryman (2013), Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Age Difference, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Aphrodisiacs, Bottom Adam, Brooding, Dominant Hannibal, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, Forbidden Love, Frottage, Gay Sex, Hannibal grows a damn heart and doesnt eat it, Hannibal legit becomes Nigel, Healing, I'm sorry Bryan Fuller, Identity Issues, Jealousy, M/M, Mentions of Will Graham - Freeform, Mind Games, Minor Character Death, Mutual Masturbation, Nigel (Charlie Countryman) Loves Adam Raki, Nigel and Hannibal are half related, On Hiatus, Oral Sex, Past Nigel x Adam, Past Relationship(s), Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, References to Depression, References to Drugs, Rimming, Sad moments, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Sexual Confusion, Sexual Tension, Shameless Smut, Spacedogs Appreciation Week, Sweet Adam Raki, Top Hannibal Lecter, Unexpected Romance, i'm not, strange relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 15:48:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 83,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21660706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Koroshimasu/pseuds/Koroshimasu
Summary: When Hannibal’s half-brother Nigel dies of injuries in the hospital, he leaves Hannibal only a photograph of a young man with dark brown curly hair, and an address. Curious, Hannibal tracks the man down with the intent of killing him, but cannot bring himself to do the deed. Why does this man think he is Nigel? Shouldn’t Hannibal tell him the truth?No...instead, Hannibal assumes the identity and personality of his deceased half-brother, at first wanting to toy with the strange man, but he forgets that one can’t prevent falling in love.
Relationships: Hannibal Lecter/Adam Raki
Comments: 28
Kudos: 91





	1. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam is 22 in this, and the only reason why I adjusted the age is because it will come in handy in terms of him being manipulated and tricked by Hannibal. As innocent as Adam already is, bless his heart, I think a much younger Adam is cuter and therefore more susceptible to Hanni’s bullshit.

**The Little Things **

Hannibal took a deep breath. In spite of all things, he knew he needed to do this. He had to do this. He drew in another calm, collected breath, the kind that hardly made him even appear to be breathing, unless one remained so close to him to notice.

Hannibal stood outside of Nigel Ibanescu’s door in the hospital wing in Bucharest. Somehow, with the unholy help of perhaps the damn Devil, Nigel had been pulled out of the battle he’d instigated that involved half of the police force being required to take him down. Death had already taken a bite out of the man. It had taken some time, but he was finally succumbing to his wounds, and his time was drawing to an end.

As such, Hannibal wanted to see him so he could be present in order to witness the flicker of light leaving his half-brother’s eyes. It’d been far too long since death had been gracious to him. However, the butterflies swirling around his stomach were making him feel sick with the possibility that Nigel-the rabid, vicious, stubborn dog that he was, would survive…could he?

He had spent his entire life hating the surly, dark enigma that was only bound to him through odd blood and bad decisions. Thinking back, he felt so ashamed of his family’s thoughts and actions. All those years, he had been so wrong about where his loyalties were concerned. He had always said how evil his father was and now he felt he’d been right to assume such all these years.

His mother had been right about his father. She had always been right about the blasted man, but he had never listened. He was so steadfast in his hatred for the soldiers that had taken little Mischa away from him on that fateful day, that he couldn’t see the truth.

Hannibal didn’t trust Nigel, and he never was going to take that up in practice. The man’s imminent death was going to be liberating, but he needed to talk to him about what he had viewed in his memory palace...the bits that were still standing, that is. Now, this man was the only link Hannibal had to his parents and to his horrible childhood. He had to remain constant in order to gain information, and finally break the chains that bound him to his deep-seated hatred of the man.

Taking another deep breath, he knocked on the door.

“Come in,” a scratchy voice responded.

Pushing the door open, Hannibal tentatively stepped inside. Looking towards the bed, he saw his half-sibling lying there. As worn out and bruised as Nigel was, only wrapped in bandages, his black eyes automatically moved towards Hannibal’s. A cold sneer grew on his cracked and dry lips.

“Hannibal,” Nigel said, an even larger sneer appearing on his face when he saw who entered the room.

Coldly, Hannibal folded his arms down before his abdomen, fingers stretching out in the confines of his black gloves. Cruelly, the former psychiatrist hissed in a salient whisper, “I know you don’t have much time left, Nigel so I’ll be certain to make this quick.”

“Please…do,” the injured, bloodied man replied, a wary expression appearing on his face. No doubt the lesser man knew Hannibal’s purpose, here, and he wanted to be rid of him as much as Hannibal did.

Patiently, Hannibal closed his eyes and summoned his strength. It was always easier slowly killing someone; strangling the life out of them without even getting his hands dirty. He needed to do this. He had to.

While Nigel wheezed and breathed with major difficulty, Hannibal purred, “I think you’re fated to this, and your inevitable fall is something I will enjoy witnessing. You must know that I hate you more than I could possibly put into words. You were so cruel, harsh, and downright despicable to tolerate. You wanted to surpass me in a way, but if you had really meant it, you would have truly put in an effort, Nigel. I understand why you didn’t, but that doesn’t lessen your pain. You went out of your way to do this to yourself, and I hate you for that, but also feel so liberated.”

Slowly, Nigel’s eyes widened, and his heart rate pumped faster and faster before gradually slowing down. Good. Hannibal knew he wasn’t expecting these words.

Forcing himself to draw closer to the man lying helpless on the hospital bed, Hannibal continued. “As much as I despise you, I can’t help but feel guilty…” Eyebrows not even raising, he purred, “You set yourself free, and in turn, you set me free. I will always be grateful. I owe you my death, in turn, so I must thank you, Nigel.”

There was a silence. Nigel looked at Hannibal, who hadn’t closed his eyes. Though he couldn’t even speak properly due to his lungs slowly collapsing and giving out, Nigel hissed, “I…h-hate…you…m-more…y-you’ve…always…been…a-a bastard, and…I…s-still h-hate…you.” Shifting uncomfortably, he managed to gulp down one final bit of air, and it seemed to be enough for him to reach deep down beneath the stained hospital sheets.

Hannibal glanced expressionlessly at him, waiting to see how he would respond.

Finally, Nigel brought his hand back up above the sheets, and a small crinkling sound broke through in the air. Pink eyes glared forth at Hannibal, and then turned soft and almost peaceful as Nigel unfurled a small rectangular bit of paper in his hand.

It was a photograph.

Hannibal gave a curt nod. “We don’t need to discuss further.”

Coughing once, Nigel grit his teeth, and he shoved the photograph into Hannibal’s gloved hands. “T-take…it,” he coughed, blood already staining his yellowed, chipped teeth, “…he…is…m-my…”

Snarling, now, Hannibal tried pushing the photograph back into Nigel’s hands, but then the man really began coughing violently. It would soon draw attention, and Hannibal didn’t have time for it. Refusing was only going to make Nigel lash out, so he did the only thing he could do to ameliorate the situation.

Grasping the photograph in his hands, he spun around on his heels and tore out the door like a bat out of hell. Pressing himself against a wall, he glanced down once at the photo and then sneered.

A man no older than twenty-four at the most stood glancing to the side strangely, and his face reminded Hannibal all too much of someone he once cared about deeply but had forgotten. Hannibal’s hyper-sensitive ears caught the sounds of Nigel’s heartbeat slowing down, and then, finally, one last ‘beep’ echoed on the other side of the wall before all movement from his half-sibling ceased.

Smiling, he whispered menacingly, “I promise I’ll reunite you with your lover, Nigel.” Flipping the photograph to the back, he found that there was in fact an address, and a name…

The words left his throat and lips like a gentle breeze flying through an open window.

“Adam Raki, Manhattan New York County, New York…”

Glancing once into the disconnected eyes of the young man captured and immortalized in the photo, Hannibal noticed one thing. The man wasn’t making or holding any eye contact.

How unusual.


	2. A Stalker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal would argue that it's more so 'Intense research of an individual'.

Hannibal despised America. Born and raised in a European country had only been a catalyst for his refined taste and greater sensibilities to shape and morph him into the superior being he considered himself to be. Now that he had crossed the threshold and made his way back into the world he loathed entirely, he felt utter indignity coursing through his steady veins.

Perhaps Alana Bloom had been correct; he truly feared indignity more than anything else.

He could hardly believe that he’d once made Baltimore something of a home, practicing psychiatry in the infernal, hellish place while hunting down the rude denizens for sport. Too bad that was all buried and laid to rest in his past, now. After the rise and the fall of the Great Red Dragon, Hannibal’s visions and memory palace had burned to the ground.

Purposefully so, as such.

Like all things lost to the sea, Hannibal and Will Graham got separated, the dark, cold waters consuming them both after their dive. He’d spent an entire day searching for Will, but when his wounds threatened to become more infected than they already were, Hannibal ceased searching. Perhaps it was finally time to concede the point that his love was gone, and no more.

But then why was he staring into the eyes of an exact replica of Will Graham, now?? They could’ve been twins, and it disturbed Hannibal very much. As soon as he’d tracked Adam Raki down with little-to-no-difficulty, the former psychiatrist discovered that Adam Raki could’ve served for a much younger Will Graham…was his soul just as innocent and just as hungry for bloodshed, as well?

Fate had already been unkind to him before, and now, it was unleashing its vengeance unto him. Hadn’t he lost enough? First his parents, then Mischa, then his beloved Lady Murasaki. These losses had been detrimental to him as a young adult, but Hannibal couldn’t say that the loss of his surrogate daughter Abigail Hobbs had been easy, either. Finally, losing Will Graham after working so hard to find each other had been the tipping point, and the final straw. Choosing to distance himself, he retreated deeply into his memory palace, and as he knelt at the altar in worship over his deceased lover, he destroyed everything nearest to him.

Everything had to go. Starting from his previous life, Hannibal Lecter assumed this was ‘the end’, and he was willing to shed his meat-suit and start over…if he could. As much as it thrilled him being known as the Chesapeake Ripper, and Il Mostro di Firenze, the former psychiatrist felt a lackluster sensation dampening his mood. The game he once reveled playing was now monotonous, his inspiration and entertainment jaded over the course of time. Time was the true enemy; it spoiled, it festered, and it aged even untouchable demons poorly.

Yes, perhaps it was much better to snuff the candlelight that was Adam Raki wandering about Manhattan, seemingly going about his mundane life, when in turn, he wasn’t doing anything productive. For many days after landing in New York, Hannibal kept a close watch on the young man, and he very soon found out a lot of personal information while he stalked Adam.

Such a simpleton, indeed.

Adam Raki didn’t keep many friends close, and his social skills were quite poor. He avoided heavily crowded places, and he didn’t venture much out into public. This however suited Hannibal just fine. He much preferred spilling blood in the dark and shadows, anyway.

Adam Raki lived on a routine, it seemed. Almost three times a week, he would wander into the park close to the apartment he lived in, and he would feed ducks and squirrels. Upon closer inspection, Hannibal caught onto the fact that Adam would also speak to these critters as though they were listening and his true friends…admirable. Having a soft spot for animals himself, Hannibal ignored the strange oddity emanating from Adam Raki, and he stored more information on the young man through routine human observation.

Whenever Adam Raki wasn’t alone, he was often accompanied by an older African American man named Harlan Keyes. Adam also had a lovely female neighbor named Elizabeth Buchwald, a slender woman with dark brown hair that flowed down to her shoulders. Adam perhaps was smitten with her, but Hannibal didn’t care much. His only sworn duty and purpose here was to isolate and trap Adam when he deemed it the best, most opportune moment, and then he would end the young man’s life and have him join his damn half-brother where he belonged.

….

But had Adam Raki _truly _been in a relationship with his half-brother?? Speculating on reasons why it could’ve happened, Hannibal surmised that perhaps Adam’s strange idiosyncrasies had taken root in Nigel’s black mass of muscle that was supposedly a ‘heart’. After all, Hannibal knew his half-sibling well enough to assume that Nigel was often drawn to things in life he didn’t quite understand, and so long as there was entertainment readily available to him, he would consume it whole.

Quite the rude pig, he was.

Well, there was no need to drag this out any longer. Hannibal despised wasting time, and he loathed having his own time wasted. Not ever one to play with his food like a cat that caught a canary in its sharp claws, he would at least be merciful in granting Adam Raki a swift and painless death.

Yes…painless and without stress, otherwise, the meat would taste acidic, and he couldn’t tolerate that.

Without the young man catching on, Hannibal grew closer and closer to his prey day by day, one Saturday morning even standing directly behind Adam as he sat at a park bench while tossing some popcorn bits to squirrels and a friendly raccoon.

Fool.

It would be so easy to withdraw a sharp, silver blade now and slice thinly left to right across the back of his nape…Adam would bleed out right there, and Hannibal would likely fly back to Italy before anyone even noticed Adam bleeding out his life source.

Carelessness.

Pulling back on the reins, Hannibal ensured he kept a close distance to Adam at all times, even going so far as renting a tiny, one-bedroom apartment just down the hall from his room. The entire building reeked of alcohol, tobacco, sweat, urine, and recklessness. Hannibal couldn’t believe he was subjecting himself to such a horrific experience, but he promised himself that the rewards he would soon reap would in fact be worth every sacrifice.

Still, as he worked hard on trying to clean the little hovel of an apartment he’d rented, he couldn’t help but notice that his tiny cell back in Baltimore State Hospital had been more decent and sanitary…

Well, at least the nosy Dr. Chilton was long gone and out of his hair. Reminding himself of that trade comforted Hannibal…barely. He wouldn’t rest until Adam Raki was six feet beneath the soil and earth, and he enjoyed planning the young man’s death in numerous different ways.

Perhaps the most insulting-to Nigel, anyway-was for Hannibal to drain Adam dry of all his blood, skin him, sell his skin or maybe use it to create hand lotion he could sell, and then use his organs to cook a meal for the entire population of the tenants in this apartment building…

Not bad.

Feeling slightly rusty in terms of his ideas, Hannibal supposed it would take a few more weeks to get back into the ‘swing’ and ‘flow’ of things. He’d been so badly out of practice. The former psychiatrist knew why; he’d vowed to himself previously that he would only take up hunting with Will Graham at his side. But now, with Will Graham gone, Hannibal felt he almost had no purpose anymore…

What was he even doing, here??

Eyeing the mess and disarray his apartment was in, Hannibal decided that this wouldn’t do. His organized, neat, tidy nature clawed and tugged internally at him until he decided to dedicate half a day to scrubbing away at the black mold and mildew growing up between the tiles in the kitchen and bathroom. How was it that an animal-let alone a human being-was supposed to live here??

He scrubbed, he washed, he applied bleach, he fanned and aired out the rooms one-by-one, and then did it all over again the next day until things seemed… ‘decent’. By Hannibal’s higher standards of living, this was still a complete pigsty, but it would have to do, for now. He could at least get a few hours of sleep here and there, not that he needed much of it. A creature of the night, he was, and he used his nights wisely to try and pick the lock on Adam’s front door.

As he suspected, the apartment building had indoor cameras and a security system, but it was more for show than operation. The cameras weren’t recording at all, but this was the price to pay for such cheap rent and living conditions in a down-trodden, poor neighborhood.

In less than ten minutes standing idly by the front door to Adam’s apartment, Hannibal swiftly picked the lock clean, and he stood about in the hallway just listening. He’d always had exceptional senses, and right now, his ears took in the soft, desolate sounds of the night. He heard crickets, owls, and the air conditioning system running.

Strange, Adam was a rather peaceful, quiet sleeper. His breaths had been tricky to pick up on, but when Hannibal focused, sure enough, he was able to make out Adam’s soft inhales and his slow exhales. It was rather pleasant to listen to, and it matched Adam’s voice relatively well.

During the course of the days he’d been observing the young man, Hannibal noticed that Adam’s voice was a lot gentler and far more innocent than he originally anticipated. Not quite speaking with a stutter, Adam’s words lingered, but there wasn’t a slur to them. No, it seemed as if Adam chose his words carefully, but also was afraid of saying the wrong thing. He had to hold back, but his voice carried well…for someone with no self-esteem, that was.

Pity.

To Hannibal’s astonishment, Adam Raki kept an orderly home. His apartment spelled distinctly of soap, hand sanitizers, and laundry detergent all the time. Not even a single fingerprint could be found in the apartment, and as Hannibal visually scanned Adam’s trinkets and personal belongings, he couldn’t help but feel more relaxed knowing that his job was already made easier.

In such a neat home, he wouldn’t have to make such a mess…so much the better.

Thinking about where to carry out the murder, Hannibal eventually stalked and swept into Adam’s bedroom. Stopping himself right at the edge of the man’s bed, his lifeless eyes stared down at the sleeping face lit only due to a small nightlight plugged into an outlet right next to one of the nightstands.

Peculiar boy…was he afraid of the dark?

Gazing down at the sleeping form of Adam Raki, Hannibal came to the conclusion that while Will Graham and Adam Raki had at first looked a lot alike, his initial comparisons due to the photograph Nigel had given him had only served for a limited perspective.

No, Adam Raki wasn’t a thing like Will Graham. Hannibal searched through his wallet, and to his amusement, he found that Adam Raki was only twenty-two-years of age. Younger, fresher, and full of hope…

The young man was rather odd. A white space suit hung in his closet, and he truly seemed to have a knack for space and astronomy. Hannibal soon found himself growing curious about this young thing, and without even noticing it, he returned for many nights just to discover one new thing about Adam Raki each time he visited.

….

Why was he doing this?! Why was he extending the boy’s suffering?? There was no need for this! All he had to do was sink his blade deeply into Adam’s spleen, and it would be over and done with as his warm, black blood darkened and stuck to Hannibal’s shirt and matted it down with his life essence!

….

But he didn’t want to do that…he couldn’t…not with Adam Raki, just as he couldn’t do it with Will Graham.

He was beyond foolish. This _wasn’t_ Will Graham! As much as Hannibal longed for a surrogate of his lost partner, he knew that there was something wrong with Adam Raki in the way that something exultant and perfect radiated out of Will Graham. He couldn’t trust this young man enough to recruit him into a life of bloodshed the way he had with Will!

Suddenly, a strange thought struck a chord within Hannibal deeply.

Perhaps he couldn’t trust Adam into becoming one with himself, but perhaps he could learn about him in some other way…

That wasn’t such a bad idea, after all. It was always easier snatching life out of those he deemed rude, but Hannibal had been observing Adam for weeks, now, and he couldn’t locate a single rude bone in the youngster’s body. Wouldn’t that just be senseless murder??

He didn’t want to waste the meat…

While remaining indecisive as ever, Hannibal soon made observing and watching Adam Raki his personal hobby. He lived and breathed for it, daring himself to get as up close to Adam to see whether the boy would even notice it or not.

He never did.

Content with being a silent, distant, unknown entity and a ‘fan’ of Adam’s, time flew by for the first instance in Hannibal Lecter’s life. He lost count of the days, allowing his eyes to roam around the limited world that was Adam Raki’s world.

And what an odd world it was, indeed.

He was amazed to discover that Adam Raki in fact held a job at a toy manufacturing company. Hannibal determined that the hours were part-time, as Adam left early in the morning before seven, and would return to his apartment at noon. Afterwards, he would watch a lot of clips and videos on space programming, space exploration, and sometimes even listened to lectures delivered by prominent astronauts.

What an odd, odd person…

Well, Hannibal kept his distance, admiring the young man from afar, and as his fondness and curiosity for the young thing grew, he soon tapped into his sadistic nature and decided to linger around a little longer. Perhaps Manhattan could use a long-term guest…perhaps it was time for the Monster of Florence to take up a home in Manhattan…

(--~*~--)

The monster had to slip some time. Perhaps it really was because he was so badly out of practice, or perhaps it was because he’d wanted to get caught. Either way, Hannibal Lecter had been ‘caught’ on a Sunday afternoon when he emerged from his apartment to watch Adam feed the raccoons and ducks in the park. Keeping a mental record of the man’s schedule, Hannibal knew that today was another day Adam would do this, but what he hadn’t been expecting was for Adam to already be standing out in the hall chatting with his neighbor, Elizabeth Buchwald.

Once his door squeaked open, it was already too late.

Hannibal froze as he lingered in the open doorway, the faint, soft voices of both Adam Raki and Elizabeth coming to a halt and dying down. Had he been spotted?? Hoping that wasn’t the case, Hannibal hung back slightly, knowing that the shadows of the other half-open doors and the mucky, dirty windows would conceal his little error.

Holding himself back against the doorframe, he paused, his ears twitching as he focused on the floorboards creaking and squeaking as they bent to support the weight of two other grown adults in the hall.

After some time, Elizabeth sighed in a panicked manner, “I thought I saw him…”

“Y-yeah,” came Adam’s first sign of a nervous tick, “it was like s-seeing a ghost…”

Not daft in the slightest, Hannibal was more so offended due to the assumption that Elizabeth and Adam held. They thought he was Nigel. Strange. While Hannibal knew he bore some similarities to his now deceased half-sibling since they shared the same father, nothing irritated his superior sensibilities than being mistaken for his idiotic side of the family he’d so very much tried distancing and breaking himself away from.

Frowning as he hid himself away, he resumed listening to more hushed whispers from Adam and Elizabeth.

“I’ve gotta get going, sweetie,” she stated, the possible source of her clothes shifting only a sign that she was checking her watch.

“Okay Beth,” Adam sighed back, “I’ll see you later.”

“Be careful out there, sweetie; there’s a lot of weirdos hanging about.”

How sagacious of her. A true friend, no less.

Keeping an eye on the shadows cast horrifically on the walls, Hannibal waited until Elizabeth had descended the apartment steps before he made to close his door. It was a lot wiser to observe Adam from the windows for now, at least until the young man wiped his image clean from his mind.

Vowing to just do that, Hannibal slowly shut his door. It clicked, and as he went to slide over the lock and chain into its rightful place, a shadow was cast down beneath the doorway. Gazing at it for a moment, he barely inhaled when a pink hand slid in between the tiny space remaining before the door had sealed off completely. At once, Hannibal leapt back, and the door burst open in his face.

Such a violent, forceful move…

Blinking quickly, Hannibal forced himself not to attack when his nostrils flared, and he caught the scent of laundry detergent and soap high in the air.

To his utter astonishment, Adam Raki burst into his apartment, panting wildly as he stared dead-on at him with eyes as wide as tiny saucers. He seemed as frightened and as shocked as he could be, given his bold, impulsive move, but Hannibal remained silent and let him speak.

Adam’s thick eyelashes fluttered like the wings of a moth. His cheeks flushed, and his hair was slightly matted to his forehead. Sure enough, his heart was racing to almost ninety-five beats per minute, and his blood was on fire.

Suddenly, a small smile formed its way onto his face, starting from the corners of his lips. It grew and spread much like a disease, and much like wildfire, until it was smoldering and quite hot to even look at.

Then, that sweet, innocent voice cried out to him, breaking the strange silence that Hannibal was nearly drowning himself in.

“Nigel?! I _knew_ you’d come back for me!! I knew it!!”


	3. Gift of Kindness

Of course, such an innocent creature would fall into the trap of mistakenly assuming Hannibal Lecter and Nigel Ibanescu were one and the same. Though pestered by this notion, Hannibal found he couldn’t be too angry with Adam Raki for drawing his assertions, as offensive as they were at face-value.

Since the deadly tryst with the ocean, a year had passed, and Hannibal’s hair had grown almost to the same length as Nigel’s often was kept in. More silvers and greys sprouted from his light blonde mass atop his skull, and to Hannibal’s horror, his hair color was one and the same as Nigel’s now that he’d grown older. The soon-to-be forty-eight-year-old was only three years older than Nigel, but due to the harsh, danger-seeking lifestyle Nigel Ibanescu lived out, he seemed by appearances to be just as old as Hannibal. Since the murderous former psychiatrist lost himself to cleaning his boorish apartment, he hadn’t shaved properly in well over a week and half, and he realized he was hosting a face with a silver-blonde stubble.

Messy…unkempt…

But to _really_ be seen as Nigel…what an insult…

Putting on a calm, cold demeanor, he stood tall as he took up a removed, neutral stance. Body posture not revealing a lot, his eyes bounced around from Adam’s eyes, all the way up and down the length of his body. As he thought from looking at the photo, Adam had a difficult time maintaining eye contact.

But the boy wasn’t a victim of brain damage.

Hannibal’s next logical, medical theory to explain this was that perhaps Adam Raki suffered from autism spectrum disorder. Hannibal’s closest guess was Asperger’s Syndrome. He’d seen way Adam had a difficult time responding to social cues, understanding concepts such as sarcasm, light humor, but otherwise seemed to be quite intelligent to craft his space suit, keep his job, and understand intricate details and concepts about the field of science.

Standing back, Hannibal licked his lips once, and Adam, while staring down at the old, wooden floorboards, cried out pathetically, “Nigel! You are here!! Wh-why were you gone f-for so long?”

It was at this point that Hannibal knew he had to make a quick decision.

Right now, the young man standing before him expected him to answer. Reasonably, Hannibal knew he had to respond, but the question of ‘how’ was an entirely subjective feature. He could come forth with the truth, state that he wasn’t Nigel, pull Adam inside when he was far too distracted, choke him, and then get rid of him.

Or, he could…

….

Could he really??? Could he _really _dare to take it that far?? Was he willing to take on the responsibility that came associated with assuming the identity of his deceased half-sibling?

Gazing once at Adam quickly, Hannibal made his decision in a matter of seconds.

Yes, yes he could do it. Yes, yes he wanted to do it. The thrill of it tasted far too sweet, and he was rather hungry for a burgeoning curiosity unlike any he’d felt in a year.

But why? It would only ensure suffering on his own terms especially, and it was likely going to end up turning calamitous and disastrous. Strangely, where that idea had once spiked the need to hunt in Hannibal’s veins before, now, it seemed to act as a deterrent. Why wasn’t he excited about the possibility of ruining this man’s life?

….

Because he didn’t deserve it. Adam Raki deserved the truth, yet Hannibal knew that the truth would likely kill the young man. Putting the pieces together quickly, he determined that for Adam Raki to burst into his apartment so wildly and desperately, only meant that he in fact had been Nigel’s lover. They’d been close, no doubt. Whatever had happened in the past remained a mystery to Hannibal Lecter, but he knew that either way, Adam was expecting some kind of a reply. While he’d been so disconnected from his estranged half-sibling to be bothered to care and know about his past, Hannibal knew that this situation _could_ still turn out for his own benefit…

Good…he could still think like a predator, and he was going to operate and function like one.

The game was on, and he was going to assume the mantra and don the mask of his younger half-sibling.

It was time to become Nigel Ibanescu.

Shifting his weight, Adam whispered tentatively, eyes still trained on the floor, “N-Nigel? Are you okay?”

Hoping that his clipped, short answers would suffice, Hannibal growled, “I’m fine.”

Hearing his voice must’ve startled Adam. The brunette raised his head, though his eyes kept a close watch on the wall behind Hannibal’s head. “Nigel!” he rasped, “you…you s-sound…different?”

Ah, so he was unsure of it, also?

Falling into the boy’s insecurity and doubts, Hannibal played on those doubts as much as he could while attempting to replicate and mimic exactly how Nigel sounded. It proved to be a bit difficult, but he soon felt he had the correct and most identical growl, rasp, and deep rumble of the man’s voice down on point.

Speaking low, he answered, “I have a bit of a sore throat, Adam.”

Leaping up a bit, Adam gasped, “Is th-that why you didn’t want for Beth and I to see you?”

Frowning, Hannibal replied back, “I suppose so.” Just what was the nature of Nigel’s relationship with this ‘Beth’, now? Wondering just what kind of a puzzle he’d stumbled blindly into, Hannibal remained distant, ever aware of how Adam’s eyes were slowly landing on his neck.

Damn. He remembered that Nigel had a cheap tattoo on the left side of his long pallor. Not needing to fret about it, he moved back, snatching a high-collared sweater off a coat rack close to the hallway closet. Putting it on, he made sure that the collar was propped up to cover his entire neck, and only then did he turn to face Adam once more. This ruse worked, and it wouldn’t seem out of the ordinary for someone claiming to have a sore throat.

Shyly, Adam exhaled while keeping his eyes trained down almost submissively, “You are scared of Beth again, aren’t you?”

Once again, Hannibal found himself feeling purely offended. ‘Scared’? Scared of Beth?? Hannibal Lecter didn’t consider himself to be frightened of anyone or anything save from what Dr. Alana Bloom had once taunted him with back in his prison cell. Well, as such, this _was _indignity, but he couldn’t entirely fault this bizarre young person for it.

Adam didn’t know him at all.

Impassively, he responded with, “I highly assure you; I’m not frightened of that dainty young woman.”

Immediately, Hannibal sensed another fatal error. Adam seemed…suspicious. His eyes narrowed down at the floor, and his brows furrowed and knotted together on his brow.

“Nigel, you’re talking funny…” came his innocent observation, “…why are you using big words?”

Biting the insides of his cheeks, Hannibal knew that he had to quickly drop the luculent demeanor. Feeling his blood inspissating in his veins, he was shocked his heartrate didn’t increase. Playing it cool, he forced himself to snap out irritably, “I’m just sick, Adam.” Praying that Adam would leave it at that, Hannibal leaned casually against the wall behind himself, crossing his bulky arms over his chest.

Regarding the move oddly, Adam blinked, and then followed the single act with many more rapid blinks. “Yeah, b-but s-something’s off,” he stated sheepishly, his blush never once leaving his face.

Almost losing it, Hannibal swallowed thickly, even though he found no use for it. He knew precisely what he could do in order to dispel any doubt lingering in Adam’s mind, but it was a matter of Hannibal not wishing to subject and degrade himself to such low levels. Specifically, he knew that Nigel loved to curse. The man’s language and vocabulary were quite limited, and after having the misfortune of chatting with the boorish creature more times than necessary, Hannibal found Nigel’s choice of words to be quite foul, insipid, tedious, and too banal for his tastes. To want to cut out Nigel’s tongue and serve it to his guests was an insult, even.

But there wasn’t any other way around this; not unless Adam was going after the authorities, and Hannibal’s cover would have to be blown.

Not wanting to be caught was worth the pain and anguish of having to subject himself to using terse words, but it was a sacrifice Hannibal decided to make.

Closing his eyes, he pinched the bridge of his nose as he whispered, “I’m fucking tired, Adam.”

He hated to admit it, but his tongue felt as though it were on fire. If man had been biologically designed and structured to have a tongue, a brain, freedom of thoughts and feelings, then why should he express himself in such morbid, bland ways? The refined art that language was, the gift of words and communication should’ve been used for propelling humanity to a higher plane of existence; not ‘dumbing’ things down.

And did Hannibal Lecter ever feel dumbed down, especially now that he’d used the word he vowed never to even use inside his bedroom with past lovers.

Tasteless.

Strangely, this seemed to satisfy the brunette standing in the hallway of his apartment. Emitting an excited, exuberant cry of joy, Adam leapt up as he gasped, “I’m happy you’re okay, Nigel. I was worried.”

The slightly robotic, chopped way Adam communicated due to his condition didn’t bother Hannibal as much as he suspected it would’ve. As such, he regarded Adam in much the same way he would’ve regarded a former patient suffering from another psychosocial condition such as social anxiety, perhaps.

But this _wasn’t_ a patient…

Reminding himself of that raw fact, he dropped his hand from over his face and gazed at the door. Retreating back into his mind, he thought about how else Nigel could’ve possibly spoken to Adam Raki. As much as Hannibal didn’t know about his hated step-sibling, the bits he knew seemed to suggest that when it came to his lovers, Nigel Ibanescu held them quite dear to his heart. From what he recalled, Nigel had once been married. Unsure of the woman’s name, all Hannibal knew was that she had bright red hair, lived in abject poverty, once, and looked like a harlot when he’d seen a picture Nigel had texted him of their wedding. He’d labelled it as: **_My darling and I, till death do us fucking part._**

Darling…

Hitching on to that as an idea, Hannibal forced through clenched teeth, “Won’t you sit down, darling?”

Responding to that pleasantly, Adam awarded Hannibal with the courage that his assumptions hadn’t been incorrect, after all.

Smiling lightly, Adam bowed his head, remaining polite as he cried, “I have to f-feed the ducks and the raccoons, Nigel…you know that because we used to do that together all the time.”

Right…damn it.

Wondering he how could’ve forgotten that so quickly, especially considering how he’d spent weeks stalking Adam Raki, Hannibal repressed his anger by forcing a smile onto his face. Holding out his hands, he moved towards the door as he suggested, “Would you like me to keep you company then, darling?”

Nodding vehemently, Adam exclaimed, “Oh yes!!” Latching onto Hannibal’s arm, he tugged him forward with great strength as he yanked him out the open door.

“Come on!! We’ll be late, and they won’t come out in the dark!!”

Perhaps they wouldn’t, but the Chesapeake Ripper loved the dark. It was all he knew.

(--~*~--)

“You can’t imagine how good it feels to know that I’m not abandoned. I thought you were really going to leave me behind. When you told me exactly one month ago, which would be May the seventh, approximately at eight-fifty-eight in the morning that Darko needed you to go back to Romania for business, I must admit that I wasn’t super pleased. Darko is a nice guy, but I don’t like him because he has connections to other bad men. These bad men have hurt you before, Nigel, but now that you’re with me, they can’t get to either of us.” Adam spoke in a very monotone, robot-styled voice as he tore off piece-by-piece bits of bread he had left over, and tossed them gently into the pond to feed the ducks and their hatchlings. He was seated in front of the little pond on a cold, small hard wooden bench in the park with Hannibal at his side.

The only thought that the former psychiatrist entertained in his mind was one simple question:

Did this boy ever stop talking?

Peeking at the curly-haired brunette, Hannibal’s ears ached when Adam barely took a breath before continuing.

“Did you know that a lot of adults reported last year that only ten percent of them feel loved? What is love? Love could be defined as a certain feeling people gain when they bond with someone. These feelings could stem from a sexual relationship, too, and these don’t exclude homosexual and bisexual relationships.”

Evidently, not.

He told Hannibal quite a lot of random, useless things. For example, Adam stated that he used to come to visit and feed the ducks all the time with his father, but he now only visited them three times a week as he was still not comfortable going out on his own too much. Luckily, the weather was getting a bit warmer, so he could probably venture out more now, and then that turned into another harangue about the seasons and the planet…and the solar system.

The wind slightly blew back his medium-length-curly dark brown hair, and he closed his deep blue eyes as he tore up the bread, making it crumble apart and tearing almost into precisely sized and shaped pieces. Adam looked down at the bread and beamed widely, proud of himself for making the bread bits so easy, small and neatly precise for the ducks to feast on.

He was dressed in a dark grey vest to protect himself from the occasional chilly weather as the wind blew about, and he had on his favorite thick cream-colored pants he regaled to Hannibal that his father had bought him for his job interviews. Apparently, they’d helped him land work, and he claimed he was very happy with how hard he had been working on his own. He said his father would have been so proud of him, especially after all the hours and times they’d put in together to work on Adam’s interviewing and presentation skills. Hannibal learned that it was through their hard work that Adam had been offered a position of employment in a toy company. He didn’t get paid much, but it was enough to keep buying his favorite meals and to be able to purchase tickets for shows and events about Space whenever they were available in museums, theaters, and carnivals.

Hannibal was so lost in his thoughts and the increasing whistling and howling of the wind, that he almost didn’t hear his heart slowing down gradually in his chest. This…this individual was so content with living such a dull life and thinking out of a puerile brain. He really was an innocent infant trapped in a grown adult’s body. Be that as it may, Hannibal’s patience was slipping. The longer Adam rambled on, the more nervous Hannibal became.

A nervous Hannibal wasn’t a logically well composed Hannibal, either. No, he actually hated that such a baseless charlatan was capable of possessing the ability to rile him up this way, and Hannibal clenched his jaw tightly. Adam Raki was driving him mad. This was way worse than tolerating that overgrown monster Mason Verger, and this was even more of a challenge than entertaining on a weekly basis the dry, vapid Franklyn Froideveaux, his deceased patient.

With wild abandon, he lost control, and he spewed forth what had been brewing on the tip of his tongue the entire time.

“Shut the fuck up.”

It was a case of the words slapping Adam in the face, practically. At once, now that he’d been rudely snapped out of his musings, Adam’s words and next phrases died down in his throat. Spinning to the side to gaze somewhere past Hannibal’s nose, he offered a tiny smile, but then it broke.

Adam had now ceased smiling, and the angry glare permeating forth from Hannibal’s pupils didn’t help the situation and the tension disappear. The brunette began breathing a bit rapidly, fumbling for words as his eyes swam back and forth. “I’m s-sorry!! Was I talking too much? Was this another mistake, Nigel? Because I still really feel horribly about making that mistake about $500 for 1,000 dolls! Or was it $5,000 for 100 dolls? I’m sorry I can’t remember, Nigel! I know you’re not too happy with me right now either, probably, but I can’t tell because I don’t know what other people are thinking and feeling, and I can’t read anything from their expressions or their words and it is so difficult for me to—”

“Adam?”

The voice belonging to the person that had interrupted them belonged to the African American man named Harlan Keyes. Harlan reminded Hannibal quite a lot of Jack Crawford. As burly and well-built as the other man was, Harlan seemed to be the same height, but he didn’t appear to be menacing or a threat.

Dressing in a long, black peacoat in spite of the warm weather, Harlan’s dark brown hiking boots crunched down over gravel and grass as he weaved his way around the perimeter of the pond and stood before Adam. Taking his time to scowl at ‘Nigel’, he held out a hand as he snarled, “Didn’t think we’d be seeing you again.”

Hannibal deeply wondered just how many people Nigel had made acquaintances with. No wonder he’d fallen into a trap of his own stupidity and died as a result of it. Vowing to keep his list of known associates short, Hannibal held out his hand, maintained eye contact with Harlan, and curtly responded with, “Hello.”

The man’s eyebrows shot up immediately, and he howled, “Hello??? _Hello_?? That’s a first, isn’t it, Adam?”

The younger male was rather quiet, no doubt still perturbed and upset due to Hannibal’s curse words so callously flung at him. Catching on to his silence, Harlan dropped Hannibal’s hand out of his hold, and lay that same hand on Adam’s shoulder.

“Adam?”

Shifting himself, the young man smiled weakly, and then pushed Harlan’s hand off his body. “I’m okay, Harlan,” he answered, “how are you today?”

Never once taking his eyes off ‘Nigel’, Harlan sighed, “Oh, I’m fine, Adam. Truth be told, a little curious as to why Nigel doesn’t reek of cigarettes, or how he’s managed to sit here for over ten minutes without wanting to smoke…”

Hannibal nearly roared out in protest. He knew that Nigel had been a chain smoker, but he would rather commit suicide than take up such a filthy habit.

All he could offer Harlan was a simple explanation of, “I’ve decided to quit.”

Nodding his head slowly while he regarded him carefully, Harlan noted, “Interesting, Nigel, I’m sure Adam will appreciate that a lot.”

“Hmm,” Hannibal intoned, “I’m sure.”

“Nigel used the ‘eff’ word at me, Harlan,” Adam blurted out quickly, and Harlan immediately rounded on Hannibal.

Defensive. Admirable.

A finger thickly jabbed in Hannibal’s face as Harlan’s cheeks puffed out. “Is that right, Adam?” he asked, “Nigel, have you been abusing your partner? Because if I find out that you are, I’m going to beat the shit out of you.”

Rolling his eyes in what he hoped was an act his deceased stepbrother often would do in the heat of an argument, Hannibal groused, “Relax; it was a joke.”

But there was nothing facetious about this at all. Harlan wasn’t the type to ingurgitate his lies and obfuscation easily, nor had Jack Crawford been the same. They were quite identical indeed, now that Hannibal considered it. If that were the case, then, he knew he had to be extra cautious, and he watched his next few words carefully.

Nodding his head casually at Adam, he sighed calmly, “He knows I didn’t mean it, right…darling?”

As if testing it, Harlan waited, scanning both Adam and Hannibal with his dark eyes. Everything relied on how Adam would answer, and as Hannibal hung on that thread, his fingers hooked onto the edge of the park bench, and his hold on it grew tighter and tighter…

Any minute now, he was convinced already that Adam Raki was going to fail him. He should’ve struck down the youngster when he had the chance, minimizing the risks of them being seen out in public like this…

And just then, Adam peeked up at Harlan, and an even wider smile grew on his face. Head bopping up and down in a way that made his curls bounce, he chirped out, “That’s right, Harlan!! Nigel wouldn’t be mean to me! He loves and cares for me so much! Don’t worry!!”

Foolish man.


	4. Already Playing

Hannibal was bored. Adam’s routine lifestyle wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, but the former psychiatric practitioner had been far too accustomed to living out a fancy, extraordinary lifestyle by comparison, and he felt truly caged and held back in Manhattan.

Shortly after Harlan dished out a warning and left them to their own devices, Adam insisted on following Hannibal back to his apartment. Well. Not one for guests that flocked into his home with an invitation, Hannibal normally would’ve punished the rudeness, but he let it go when he examined, analyzed, and observed Adam Raki even more so than ever now that he was up close to the source of mystery.

Yes, he determined that Adam Raki in fact did have Asperger’s Syndrome. The young man displayed more signs of it now that he was laid back and more comfortable knowing that his ‘Nigel’ had returned to him. Adam’s speech was pedantic, and it was filled with obscure, minute facts and details. He was overly concerned with formalisms; displayed a narrow concern for book learning and formal rules; and was overly concerned with the precise meanings of words.

Like a few of his patients who also had the same condition, Adam showed that he had difficulties with pragmatic, or socially symbolic language. This included saying inappropriate things, not taking turns in conversations, speaking in a way that was not appropriate for an informal social setting, or speaking in the same manner to a two-year-old and an adult without being able to pick up on social cues and adjust to them.

Yes, Adam Raki fell into all these displays and characteristics, as he often spoke too fast when nervous, and had a monotone, robotic voice.

Hannibal knew that people like Adam had difficulty with semantics, such as understanding the meaning of words within different contexts. However, where all this should’ve prepared for a gentler approach to conversing with the young man, Hannibal-being as bored as he currently was, decided he wanted to try and examine for himself just how far he could play with Adam’s mind. He wanted to both break this young thing, test the limits of his patience, test and push his boundaries, and confuse him.

Yes. Only Hannibal Lecter possessed the power and skill to wield such a psychologically deadly blade, and he was going to charge and use his weapon to his superior advantage at the cost of the youth’s imminent mortification.

Carefully selecting the language he wanted to use to poke and prod at Adam, Hannibal sat down on a chair next to the tattered old sofa Adam was currently occupying. He knew that a lot of people with Asperger’s Syndrome didn’t exactly like being physically close all the time, and that just suited Hannibal fine. He wasn’t willing to even negotiate the option of letting someone else see him. He would sooner gouge Adam’s eyes out…

Turning on the TV first to a weather channel, Hannibal crossed one long leg over the over as he sighed out in a carefree manner, “I love the news.”

Perking up, Adam’s bashful response to that, was, “I th-thought you loved me, Nigel.”

Of course, this had been expected. Adam wouldn’t and couldn’t understand that one could “love” other things in a different way than claiming to “love” a partner or soulmate.

Enticing. Charming.

Coldly ignoring that, Hannibal barely shrugged in an insouciant way before retorting with, “Don’t you love watching the news, Adam?”

Putting the young man in a corner was delightful. Adam’s cheeks lit up, and his lovely, panic-stricken eyes darted from side-to-side as he struggled to come up with a response. Hannibal was certain that the man was trying to be a ‘people pleaser’ in the sense that he was trying to appeal to how Nigel would’ve liked for Adam to respond. It was amusing to watch Adam literally breaking a sweat because of this, and Hannibal wanted to see more.

He knew that Adam appeared to have difficulty with figurative language such as idioms, metaphors, similes, and irony, and the cruel nature in Hannibal was going to play on all of these things at once. Yes, he was going to drag this out like torture, only he vowed to ‘kill’ Adam Raki with the power of his words alone.

Hardly raising a thin, light blonde eyebrow, he purred, “Fishing for compliments, are you, Adam?” tsking, he added, “I don’t mind little white lies…”

He knew that Adam’s brain was practically on fire, now. The two statements Hannibal had purposefully crafted no doubt were getting under the young man’s skin, and Adam was basically showing it all piece by piece. Delightfully and ravenously taking in whatever he was getting, Hannibal felt at ease, and he was at the height of his psychological games. In fact, they were only just beginning…Adam Raki was a lot of fun to toy with, and Hannibal Lecter wanted to _really_ get inside his head.

One step at a time, of course. Patience was key.

Worrying his lower lip while pondering about what Hannibal had said to him, Adam took his time before gushing out uncomfortably, “I’m not fishing, Nigel. I am right beside you on your sofa. I don’t know why you think I am fishing, and I have to ask, how do you know what color a lie is, and how big or small it is?”

Oh…this was supremely delightful. High quality entertainment.

Moving on to similes, now, Hannibal chuckled, “Innocent as a lamb, I see.” A lamb fit for slaughter…

Flinching, Adam whispered, “Stop it.”

He wasn’t going to. Not anytime soon.

“What’s wrong, darling? You seem as white as a ghost…is it hot as hell here, for you?”

Pressing his hands against both his ears, Adam cried, “Stop!! Stop!!”

Fixing the young man with an annoyed look, Hannibal growled, “I assume your mind is as clear as mud right now. Shame.”

Standing abruptly, Adam’s knees knocked into the coffee table, or the stump that it was, more accurately. Waving his arms frantically, he screamed boisterously, “Nigel!! Stop talking that way!!! Why are you talking funny?!”

Not wanting to cuss all day long, Hannibal’s lips curled over his sharp, elongated teeth as he snapped angrily, “I already told you that I am sick. Are you hard of hearing?”

“Th-that’s what I mean!” Adam argued, pointing a finger at him rudely, “Nigel! You never talked to me before in th-this way! What’s wrong?”

Clever. Concise. Sharp.

Understanding now that he’d somehow underestimated this young creature he once assumed was daft, naïve, and far too ignorant for his own good, Hannibal had to now re-think all his strategies. What burdened him more was that he was certain that Adam was constantly being checked on by both Elizabeth, and Harlan. It may have been easy to fool Adam, but fooling two other people?

This was going to turn out like Baltimore all over again…

Not wanting Adam to start destroying the apartment, Hannibal hushed him as he stood next to him, but was careful enough not to touch the young man. Touching someone in a state as this wasn’t wise, and the clever medical professional stood by and only held up both his hands before Adam’s eyes.

“Adam,” Hannibal started, eyes expressionless, voice calm, “I bet you’re hungry. Are you hungry?”

At the exact same time, the news segment ended, and unfortunately, an ironic instance of a commercial for _Snickers_ flashed on. The narrator suddenly shouted, “You’re not you when you’re hungry!!”

The timing wasn’t appropriate, and Adam started seething in anger. Kicking and stomping back, he screamed incoherently for at least a full minute before Hannibal swiped the TV remote off the table and shut the loud appliance off.

Panting as he calmed himself down from his little ‘episode’, Adam finally sighed, “Th-thank you…it was bothering me.”

“I could tell,” Hannibal sarcastically sniped, and again, Adam took this the literal way.

Inching closer to the taller male, Adam was scantly closing the distance between their bodies, and for the first time in quite a while since the Great Red Dragon shot him, Hannibal started to panic.

Just what was the true nature of Nigel’s previous relationship with Adam Raki?? Again, Hannibal found himself asking the question, and the voice in his head responsible for broadcasting it all over and all across the inside of his skull grew louder and louder when he gazed down and was faced with a messy mop of dark brown hair, thick, dark brown eyelashes, and the tip of Adam Raki’s nose.

Adam was now so close, that Hannibal was able to feel his exhaled breath. It smelled of mint…mint was the only thing that flared and inflamed his senses, and Hannibal nearly reeled back from it.

“Nigel,” Adam pouted, and then his arms were stretching out towards Hannibal…

Just what exactly was the relationship between his deceased, estranged half-brother, and this young man?!?

Frankly, Hannibal had seriously assumed that when Nigel elucidated briefly that he was seeing someone, he meant as a drug friend, a business partner, or someone to manipulate and vilify, more than anything else. That had always been the true heart, true motivating factor, and truest, purest form of action Nigel Ibanescu always resorted to. Like many broken, damaged creatures, Nigel was incapable of forming true friendships, which is why Hannibal was hardly surprised to learn that Nigel’s ex-wife had cheated on him.

As funny as that was, what _wasn’t _funny or amusing was whether or not Adam Raki and Nigel Ibanescu had ever been in a romantic, sexual relationship. Hannibal didn’t truly care deeply, especially considering how he still despised Nigel more than ever, even though he was gone, now. Hannibal also knew he didn’t have any issues at all with Nigel-or anyone else related to him-holding some sexual preferences and proclivities in the same gender. What drew Hannibal to certain lovers happened to be their mental depth, their psychological make-up, and how much they could give to him, in a physical, sexual, and emotional sense. Though he’d never slept with a man before, he felt he really was open to such an experience, especially since Will Graham entered his life.

What had attracted Hannibal to the enigmatic, damaged mess of a human being Will happened to be, was simply that; because he was so broken. He longed to be emancipated from the shell he’d trapped himself in. Once the chrysalis burst, the mysterious butterfly came out, flapping its lovely wings through the air while it bewitched and transfixed anyone who gazed upon its magic. The beauty in the world seen through Will Graham’s eyes had matched his own so much. It was almost like looking into a mirror, and for once, the mirror seemed to reflect back something Hannibal longed to see. Yes, he could gaze upon this mirror for hours and never grow weary of it.

The psychological component to their relationship had branched off into the realm of co-dependency, as Will had accurately pointed out one night during a therapy session. He’d stitched together the fabric of the design of the tapestry and complicated web Hannibal had left out for him. Under Will Graham’s spell, Hannibal fought hard to give back to Will a semblance of belonging, purpose, and family he knew the profiler was looking for. Aside from his dogs, Will Graham wanted a child so very badly…

And Hannibal had given him Abigail Hobbs. But that wasn’t meant to be, unfortunately. Their family unit had fallen apart, and Hannibal had been betrayed. However, that didn’t take the feelings away at all. No, it seemed that those odd feelings were there to remain, even when Hannibal had fled to Italy with Dr. Bedelia Du Maurier and had tried forming a close bond with Anthony Dimmond in the hopes of forgetting Will Graham and putting him out of his mind for good. However, that backfired. He was looking for a complete replacement, and that wasn’t possible.

Anthony Dimmond had failed and betrayed him, and it wasn’t long before Hannibal felt the same gut-wrenching stir in his stomach, and between his legs right in his loins. He ached for Will Graham; he longed for Will Graham. He wasn’t sure when the barrier between love for a friend and romantic love had appeared, but evidently, his former psychiatrist Dr. Du Maurier seemed to pick up on the clues he didn’t think he was leaving behind.

She knew he was in love with Will Graham even before Hannibal himself knew. It offended him, and her officious attitude about the revelation made him want to eat her. However, she was right. He couldn’t look at anyone with a sexual craving anymore, and anytime he even wondered what would happen if he tried to pursue an affair with Bedelia, something burned and clawed at him. Realizing that he was punishing himself, Hannibal abstained and slowly weaned himself off of any physical intimacy. His mind and body traveled across the dream lands, and in these dreams, he was making love only to one man: Will Graham.

That was the first and last time Hannibal Lecter vowed to fall in love.

But what was _this_, now?

Arms wrapped around his waist, and Hannibal nearly boiled over in rage. Breathing in and out deeply, he hooked his fingers into Adam’s arms, and he slowly shrugged the younger man’s limbs off his person.

Shaking in his anger, he hissed, “Let me go, Adam.”

Naturally, Adam felt rejected, and it all made him cling to Hannibal harder. Throwing himself on top of the older male was all he seemed to know how to do, and he obeyed the natural instincts and path of his feelings. It took a toll on Hannibal, and in the height of his untimely surprise, while he struggled to get Adam off himself, he stumbled backwards, and his heels knocked into the coffee table that had been kicked and shifted aside out of place.

The room was spinning, now, and Hannibal had no control over it. This wasn’t someone attacking him and trying to kill him. This was a one-hundred-and-seventy-five-pound, twenty-two-year-old male who lived with Asperger’s Syndrome. Hannibal knew he could’ve easily overpowered and dominated this male, and such thoughts flew through his mind. He could’ve bashed the back of Adam’s skull against a sharper edge of the coffee table, and he would be free.

But he couldn’t…no, he often prided and commended himself on handling some of the most unstable, crazed people. As a psychiatrist, he’d been trained to de-escalate situations like this, and he chose to resort to that. Violent outbursts were so easy to carry through, and he wasn’t going to fall into the trap of acting as boorish and petty as other people.

Landing roughly on his back with Adam crawling over him, Hannibal grit his teeth, turned his head to the side, and his eyes closed. Already, he was bracing and preparing himself for what was to happen. Nearly biting through his tongue the longer he could feel Adam’s face hovering above his own, Hannibal felt his heartbeat racing ever so slightly.

Wondering if the young man’s eyes were truly still on him as he assumed they were, Hannibal finally opened his eyes to face Adam Raki.

(--~*~--)

The only sensations Hannibal’s body registered happened to be the sheer roughness of the floor at his back, and the pure warmth and heat seeping out of Adam while he lay himself on top of Hannibal.

Raking his bored and exhausted eyes upward, Hannibal caught sight of a few pot lights embedded within the ceiling flickering like they were about to go out. Softly, Adam sniffled and whimpered like a wounded, lost animal clinging onto him for dear life and security. 

Quickly becoming annoyed with it all, Hannibal’s arms jerked forward. “Get off me, Adam,” he demanded in a monotonous tone, causing Adam to only cling onto him tighter in a rebellious fit.

Shaking his head back and forth wildly, Adam protested vehemently, “N-no!! I m-missed you, Nigel!!”

Gritting his teeth, Hannibal latched onto Adam’s elbows and slowly pried the young man off his chest. Surprisingly, he found that Adam was quite strong for his age, and in spite of his thinner build. 

“Don’t!!”

“Adam,” Hannibal growled the start of his warning, “get off.”

Cerulean eyes gazed into his, suddenly, and the rest of Hannibal’s words died away at once. This was quite a jarring, rare occurrence. They often said in literature and prose that eyes were the windows to the soul, and for an odd, peculiar reason he couldn’t place, Hannibal found himself curious as to the validity of such a reference. Adam Raki was genuinely making him question a lot of things, so it seemed...just like Will Graham...

Annoyed that his foolish thoughts had yet again crossed a fine bridge connecting Will Graham to Adam Raki when one shouldn’t have existed there in the first place, Hannibal examined the best method to try and extricate himself from the current predicament he was stuck in, much to his dismay. 

Strangely, he found himself internally asking: _What would Nigel do?_

“D-didn’t you m-miss me, Nigel??” 

As It happened, Adam’s innocent question provided the answer he’d been seeking all along.

Nodding slowly, Hannibal growled out in Nigel’s style and manner of speech, “I did, darling.”

Of course, as expected, this worked in his favor.

Releasing him marginally, Adam gaped, “You did?”

“Certainly,” came the next smooth lie almost effortlessly, “how could I not miss you?”

Unleashing an odd sound, Adam seemed to leak out joy and glee. Bleeding the emotions and pouring them into Hannibal had been responsible for what drove Hannibal into a tiny frenzy. Rolling himself out from beneath Adam before the younger male had a chance to even question what had just happened, Hannibal deftly leapt up to his feet. Gracefully regaining his balance, he brushed dirt off his pants and dark sweater. 

While he cleaned himself off in the best way he could, Adam frowned directly at his feet. 

Not liking the facial expression he had to gaze at, Hannibal deeply growled out, “What’s the matter?” Realizing he’d emitted quite a lot of phrases and sentences without using a single curse word in between, Hannibal made a quick mental note to try to insert one in...later. 

Adam’s eyes remained purely judgmental and at all odds with Hannibal’s current style of dress. It didn’t require much time for Hannibal to catch on as to why; he wasn’t dressed at all like Nigel. 

As if possessing the ability to read through his thoughts, Adam whispered, “You’re dressed differently, Nigel...I don’t know how to feel about it.” 

Nausea pooled and gathered in the pit of his guts at once. Hannibal had unfortunately seen his half-brother’s abysmal clothing choice and poor sense of ‘fashion’, if one could label it as such, for some time. Simply put, he found more reasons to loathe Nigel for meandering around in unwashed, cheaply designed Hawaiian-styled shirts a few sizes too large, ugly shorts, and unkempt pants for majority of the time. If the man had ever worn suits on the rare occasion, they were purchased usually from horrendous places and lacked propriety. Was he expected to dress that way, too? Sure not...it wasn’t feasible... 

Putting that out of his mind at once before he fell ill, Hannibal merely gestured expansively at his clothes, “Don’t like them?” Putting and assigning feelings and judgements already in Adam’s mind with the hope that the innocent, simple-minded man would fall prey to his manipulation tactics, Hannibal flashed Adam a bone-chilling smile. “I’m trying something new, darling,” he stated openly, “I think I look better this way.” 

Chewing on his lower lip Adam disagreed, “I liked how you dressed before, Nigel. Please wear your other clothes.”

Forcefully, Hannibal sniped, “Fuck that; I’m happier and more comfortable this way.”

Sniggering had been a surprising reaction out of Adam. Truly, Hannibal had originally anticipated for another stretched out argument to occur. 

Getting up carefully, Adam beamed into Hannibal’s broad chest. Eyes brighter than the day, he cooed pleasantly, “Okay, Nigel! I want you to be comfortable, but you never needed to dress up fancy for me! I think you are handsome no matter what!!” 

This boy...this boy was going to end him...

Surely...


	5. This Game

It was already sunset. Though the days in the summer were longer and brighter, that wasn’t inherently a great thing. It signified that Hannibal had to stay around Adam for much longer than he liked, and he was already growing weary and quite drained being around the younger male.

Adam simply had way too much energy for his tastes. The talkative youth rambled on and on about many things, no doubt all stemming from Nigel’s past. Hannibal noticed that the conversations lately seemed to focus on a mysterious man named Darko, Nigel’s trips and adventures in Romania, another odd person named ‘Charlie’, and a few other stories about Nigel somehow promising Adam he would bring him to Bucharest so they could live there and be together always. While Hannibal had no idea just who Darko or Charlie happened to be, he wasn’t interested in the slightest. As long as these people were in Romania far away from him, he had no issues whatsoever. After all, it was safe to assume that these men were likely people who Nigel had wronged or harmed in some way, and they were no doubt probably seeking revenge.

Just to be sure, he only quickly asked Adam once, “Are these men in America?”

Adam shook his head as he paced around Nigel’s kitchen. “No,” he answered truthfully, voice sincere and confident, “you even said if they ever try to come after me, you’ll shove your foot right up their a—”

“So they’ve never met you?” Hannibal interrupted, whispering internally to himself, “good.”

Curls bouncing, Adam beamed with pride and zeal, “Nope! They never met me, and it’s because you’ll cut them up like the pig twats they are! Right Nigel?”

Bewildered, Hannibal could only gape at the brazen way this young man before himself was speaking. It seemed as if Adam Raki had depended way too much and far too greatly on Nigel Ibanescu. His confidence was only borrowed; not self-originated and propagated. Without Nigel, Adam was likely fearful, small, meager, weak, and not as confident as he appeared to be, now.

Hannibal stared on, deeply consulting his inner musings while Adam opened his kitchen cupboards, the fridge, and then the freezer. Eyeing him warily, Hannibal kept a distance before he allowed his voice to travel forth with his intended question.

“What’re you doing?”

Pausing as he searched in the drawer beneath the stove, Adam inquired more in the tone of voice reserved for uttering a declarative statement than a question, “I’m looking for some Mac and Cheese, Nigel. Do you have any?”

Macaroni and cheese? How cheap. How vile. How offensive to his greater, refined palate…

Sneering derisively and dismissively at the dark-haired youth in his kitchen, Hannibal mumbled in his best ‘Nigel voice’, “I don’t have that, I’m afraid. You’re welcome to go back to your own apartment and eat that on your own time, if you so wish.”

Adam’s eyes suddenly went wider than tiny plates. He slowly spun around, and as he stared at Hannibal up and down in fright, he turned ghostly pale. “B-but Nigel!” he began while stuttering weakly, “we a-always used to have supper t-together!!!”

“Did we?” Hannibal sighed out tiredly, leaning back against the kitchen island while glaring away at the floors that still needed another round of diligent scrubbing. 

“Yeah!” Adam shrieked, “a-and for breakfast, you always used to buy me All-Bran cereal whenever I ran out and we would eat it t-together, too!!” Scrunching up his face in pure displeasure, Adam shook his head as he choked, “S-something’s n-not right here, Nigel! I feel weird!!”

Adam was no doubt going to cause a ruckus, and Hannibal didn’t need to be a genius to realize that. Typically, people who lived with Asperger’s Syndrome were rather amicable and easy-going, so as no one interrupted their routines and schedules…if someone did, the individual with Asperger’s Syndrome typically felt threatened, uneasy, offended, frightened, and in turn, they could lash out since they weren’t well-acquainted with expressing themselves to others. More a tantrum than anything else, the emotions inside him were released without control.

This wouldn’t end well.

Adam was already hyperventilating, face turning pure red as he huffed and puffed while clawing at his own clothing.

No, this wouldn’t do. Adam would likely spiral out of control, and the ‘medical professional’ side that still operated within Hannibal wanted to reach out and solve the issue. He knew that applied behavior analysis wasn’t a poor choice for therapy when dealing with a few patients who lived with Asperger’s Syndrome. Hannibal was certain that applied behavior analysis could potentially work in this case. Yes, perhaps he could use it to help calm Adam Raki down and distract him by encouraging his positive behaviors, while discouraging negative behaviors and avoiding them altogether.

His mind was already racing for a statement that would hopefully settle Adam’s nerves.

Speaking gruffly, Hannibal growled in Nigel’s voice, “Darling, I didn’t mean anything bad by it. I’ve just been working a lot with Darko like you said an hour ago, and my mind wandered in a bad direction, but you know what you just did for me right now?”

Clever. Phrasing it as a question back at Adam had already ensnared the stubborn youth’s attention, which had been Hannibal’s plan all along. He hadn’t been too fond of cognitive behavioral therapy much, personally, but for now, he hoped that his excuses and lies would be convincing enough for Adam.

Brows raised curiously, Adam ran a trembling hand through his hair to fix it back as he stuttered while his face remained clueless as ever. “What did I just do for you, Nigel?”

_Remind him of ‘good’; not bad. The more he thinks he is a benefit to your life, the better._

Careful not to hesitate for too long, Hannibal’s lips twitched in a tiny grimace before he drawled out deeply, “You take care of me all the time, Adam, and that’s exactly why I need you with me always.” Though he wondered if he was going to end up regretting this sour choice of words, he had no choice but to continue. For his sake…yes…only his sake…

Mind already on fire, brain already clenching, Hannibal held his long arms down at his side while he stared dead-on at Adam. “I’m glad we have supper and breakfast together; it’s one of the best things for us both, and I am sorry I forgot that we do this…I was just a bit unwell as I said before…darling.”

Adam’s face still presented perplexing emotions, but they slowly wavered on and off before a tiny look of indifference swam over his youthful face. “I…I want to go shopping with you, Nigel,” he announced randomly, taking a few steps towards the taller, older male. “Can we go shopping like we used to?”

Shopping? What a prospect.

Hannibal knew he hadn’t kept a lot of food in his apartment, but it was only because he’d always prepared his food by growing a lot of the ingredients for his meals. If he ever got around to shopping for other items, they had been purchased from the most expensive, most high-quality shops in all of Europe. He couldn’t possibly even stand and breathe in the same oxygen as someone who dined on Macaroni and cheese. Hannibal had been accustomed to desiring for bistecca Fiorentina, Wagyu steaks, Jamón Ibérico and Pan con Tomate, and Barone Ricasoli Castello Di Brolio Gran Selezione.

He longed for the shores of Italy, he longed to bask in the sun of Spain, he longed to walk the streets of France, he yearned to venture back into the blues, greys, and murky browns the castles of Germany, Bosnia and Herzegovina had to offer. He wished he could build his own fortress among Lithuanian hills, the mountains his own home, his safety net, his new inspiration for another memory palace, perhaps…

And instead, all he had to hope and yearn for now was Macaroni and cheese?! All-Bran cereal that he refused to even feed a child with?

Humiliation. Degradation.

But Adam had already snatched Hannibal’s hand in his own, and he was talking a mile a minute. He tugged the older male towards the front door of the apartment, an innocent smile shining forth in his eyes and on his supple lips while he blinked quickly.

“Come on, Nigel!” he excitedly sang out canorously, “the grocery’s stores hours are Monday through Friday from eight in the morning until six-thirty in the evening, with flexible hours to meet holiday needs.”

Did he have a say in this?

No, no he didn’t. To even offer up a single word in the line of a protest was only going to be silly, and an exercise in futility. Perhaps that’s why he allowed Adam Raki to lead him out of the apartment, head held high and the light breeze billowing through his thick hair so magnificently.

Perhaps.

(--~*~--)

Manhattan was noisy, polluted, overcrowded, dense, filthy, and banal. These were the only conclusions Hannibal had come to, even in the peaceful serenity of the night. This darkness had once promised and delivered calm, tranquility, civility, and now in New York City, Hannibal was reconsidering how he felt about the night. It was brighter than the day in Manhattan, and it was inescapably dull.

Punks, vandals, as well as foolish teenagers lingered about doing absolutely nothing in the way of being productive, contributing to society, and earning their right to even own the blood coursing and pulsing through their polluted veins.

How utterly vile…

Trying to mask his contempt and wishes that these lowly beasts could face nothing aside from unadulterated ignominy for the rest of their lives, Hannibal marched down the brightly lit streets, ducking and narrowly avoiding bizarre pedestrians who only sought out the comforts of the night life in order to carry through with their heinous deeds. The lighting was clumsy, and quite poor. Utterly faded in how it lined up streets and establishments, yet retaining vestiges of gaudy coloring…it was the kind of sign one might expect to see when flocking into a bar or a red-light district.

A few drug addicts asked him for money. Someone tried selling him alcohol. A prostitute attempted to approach Adam. A street performer with a small Chihuahua and a monkey danced, with the little obedient ape cleverly snatching up a few people’s wallets and cash as the dog barked, pranced about on its hind legs, and performed other tricks while his master played a ukulele.

And yet…in spite of it all, Hannibal saw no difference here between the streets of Lithuania, and Manhattan. The streets here were strewn and overrun by the same clownish figures he’d occasionally had the misfortune of seeing back at home. Beggars were beggars, all with the same convoluted intentions trapped like squealing beasts in the back of their minds. The women of the night-not at all abstemious in their manner of walking, manner of dress, and conversation-only lusted after the fat, bulky wallets of their disgusting customers. Their sunken-in eyes yearned for the next quick fix, same as all the drug addicts. All their covetous eyes seemed to be capable of was just that; coveting. 

It made Hannibal’s skin crawl.

Ensuring that he watched every step he could make only due to an untimely shock delivered to him from a homeless man sleeping in the corner of a building they walked past, he peeked over his broad shoulders a few times and noticed Adam already looking up at his face. However, the moment their eyes met-in whatever brief way-Adam broke away from it and stared elsewhere. 

Pausing so the shorter male could somewhat catch up, Hannibal drawled, “Not fond of eye contact, are you?”

Before that sentence had even completed itself, the former doctor was already constructing one of the first responses he’d drawn out of Will Graham by asking the very same question. It seemed so very long ago since their first meeting in Jack Crawford’s office...

_“Eye contact is the worst,”_ he would gaze instead at a spot on Jack Crawford’s desk, sitting stiffly as ever in the chair. _“I avoid it whenever possible, so now I am better at recognizing people by the shape of their ears or legs than by what their faces look like.”_

Ah, those eyes that held far too much empathy for a world so undeserving...those slightly fingerprint stained thick glasses concealing and serving as his only shield...

_“Eyes are distracting...you see too much, you don’t see enough. A-and it’s hard to focus when you’re thinking, umm, ‘Oh, those whites are really white!’, or...” _

That had been when Hannibal truly felt pulled and drawn to Wil Graham, and he practically ignored that he was seated in Jack’s office, given how much he’d already decided that he loathed the man. Only Will’s words seemed far beyond captivating, then.

As he went over the specific memory, he began mouthing back Will’s words, having memorized them long since. 

_“He must have hepatitis, or, ‘oh, is that a burst vein?’ so, yeah, I try to avoid eyes whenever possible.” _

…Yes…just as his eyes had avoided Hannibal’s inquisitive ones, retreating behind the synthetically opulent world his glasses created and provided him.

But had he really been insane enough to desire for a replica of the answer he’d once been given flying out of Adam Raki, now?

...Yes. Hannibal foolishly had, his lungs holding in his breath while his brain slowed time down. There wasn’t much to see, which was why he’d relied on his own mental willpower to escape all this. The wide road, which probably continued into the heart of the city, appeared to contain nothing noteworthy other than withered welcome and vegetation signs of visitors. 

They now stood on the sidewalk leading right to the automatic sliding doors of a basic grocery store titled: _‘Dandy’s Valu-Mart’._ The bizarre lights flashed on and off in the windows and door, casting strange and luminous glows on Adam’s young face. Each color highlighted some new feature about the man Hannibal had purposefully avoided noticing. However, between the moon, stars, and the filthy secrets of the night, Adam Raki was all Hannibal could see...but was he all the man had, now?

Adam’s chocolate colored brows knotted together for a split second before he avoided Hannibal’s penetrating gaze. Stepping around the taller male, he blandly answered, “You’re weird, Nigel.” Afterwards, he stood in front of the double doors until they detected his body and slid open for his entry. 

Hannibal blinked hard; he was completely thrown off his assertions. At once, Will’s voice and visage disappeared from his mind. With a strained sigh, he carried himself inside the grocery store. 

The air conditioning blasted powerfully over his head and encouraged him to pick up the pace. Fridges, freezers, and other appliances hummed and buzzed monotonously. An obese Middle Eastern man stood behind the front counter, taking up quite an interest in his fingernails as opposed to the activities his customers were engaged in. Although the store wasn’t too busy and cramped, Hannibal still counted an elderly lady purchasing cat and bird food, a heterosexual couple walking about hand in hand slowly, and three stocky, aggressive looking teenagers trying to find the most opportune moment to shoplift, no doubt. 

The store itself reeked of seafood Hannibal couldn’t see presently inside. Everything in this place needed remodeling and redecorating. It was quite the wretched sight. Paint had peeled off the walls with rust and watermarks showing through, and the signs and scales inside hanging above aisle all had their bolts that had once fastened them up slowly starting to come loose and fall out. Everything in this place seemed like it barely had something else to cling on.

The old woman paid for her items and left, first. The bratty teenagers stared on nosily at Hannibal and Adam, but the younger man didn’t appear to notice it at all. In fact, he walked right past the teenagers, hardly even lifting his head or batting an eyelash when the shortest among the bunch swiped ferociously at him. 

Scowling, Hannibal brushed his shoulders along Adam, pausing only when the strange young man had. While Adam gaped around the frozen food aisle, Hannibal growled thickly, “Your situational awareness and instincts for self-preservation are non-existent.” 

Nonplussed, Adam only smiled as he opened the large freezer doors and pulled out frozen dinner trays of cheap food that were obviously microwavable. The sight of it all made Hannibal’s stomach churn in disgust. 

Holding two packages of frozen broccoli, beans, and pizza in his arms, Adam whispered while peeking at Hannibal coquettishly from under his eyelashes, “You’re talking in a strange way again, Nigel.” 

Beyond caring, Hannibal turned his nose up at Adam, ever in a standoffish, snobby way while he watched the other man grab a shopping basket. After draping it over his forearm by the handles, Adam selected one chocolate frozen cake for himself before heading down the aisle. 

Hannibal reluctantly followed, hissing at the shorter man’s back, “You should consider dining on healthier things.” He advised Adam some more, ready to give out examples as a means of showing off to Adam just what kinds of high-quality food he’d feasted on. 

“Shh! Nigel!!” Adam pouted, “indoor voices!!” 

Enraged by the rudeness, Hannibal snapped, “I _am_ speaking in my indoor voice!! Why do you think that—” His agitated words came to an abrupt halt the moment he felt Adam rearing back and slamming into his chest. Like a spooked horse, he stood rooted on the spot. 

Peering at him for a moment, Hannibal heard Adam’s labored breathing and the way his heart thrummed in his chest strangely. His jaw quivered for a second before he clamped a hand down over his mouth forcefully. 

And yet, Hannibal had already heard the soft whimper he’d emitted. Not that Hannibal could truly blame the poor man…

Right there a few feet away from them both happened to be the heterosexual couple. They were attached at the mouth, kissing deeply, their hands roaming freely over each other’s bodies. The man gripped the woman’s buttocks, and then slid that same hand down from the swell of her behind. To Adam’s horror, the man then obscenely pushed his lover’s legs apart, and he shoved his large hand right where her private parts happened to be between her thighs.

Adam blushed, though he looked away on time right when the male blurted out at them, “The fuck are you two lookin’ at?”

While the woman leapt up, eyes growing wide with sheer panic due to being ‘caught’ as far as public displays of affection were concerned, her partner grew annoyed and heated relatively quickly.

Waving a hand in Hannibal’s face, he testily snapped, “Are you fuckers deaf?! Get the fuck out of here!”

The cold sneer was instantly upon Hannibal’s face. He stood his ground while Adam flushed and tried weaving his way around the couple.

Placing her arm on her partner’s sternum, as if to hold him back, the woman gasped, “Sweetie, it’s fine, let’s just go.”

“No!” her obstinate lover spat, his fingers turning almost claw-like and beastly as he pointed at Hannibal, and then at Adam. “These two damn queers were trying to get an eyeful, and I’m gonna punch their lights out!!”

Adam’s hands flew up to his ears. Pacing back and forth while shaking his head wildly, he whispered out in a panicked breath, “Uh oh! Uh oh! Nigel! He’s a bad man!! He wants to hurt us!!”

The words and actions Adam displayed took the heterosexual couple by surprise. Evidently thrown off-guard, they seemed to have no idea what to make of the young man while he paced about and chanted to himself, eyes clenched shut tightly the entire time. This was beyond tedious and ridiculous to Hannibal. Beyond the realms of insanity and sheer stupidity, even. All he wished for was to be able to leave here at once, and he saw to it that he did just that.

Tossing a glare at the couple, he only advised in a stern tone, “Think twice about what kind of language you use; you won’t be so lucky next time.” Ignoring how the man tried leaping at him while his partner held him back, Hannibal pressed a few fingers in the center of Adam’s shoulders and shoved him forward with a might heave.

Stumbling and nearly tripping over his own feet clumsily, Adam held his hands over his ears, though he seemed to trust Hannibal to guide him past the bickering couple. Leaving them to their skirmish and stupid devices, Hannibal steered Adam forward, feeling how small, delicate, and pliant his bones were beneath his fingertips.

Like a bird…

Hauling his thoughts elsewhere, Hannibal watched as Adam picked up his own feet and dashed ahead to the ‘breakfast cereal’ aisle, no doubt to pick out his All-Bran cereal. Hannibal silently took his rightful place next to Adam’s side, staring at everything and nothing while his eyes scanned the items on the shelves.

On the other side, laughter rang out, and then annoying hip-hop music and rap followed. Peeking sneakily between the boxes of cereal, Hannibal caught sight of the teenagers playing the loud music on their iPhones while milling about.

A gentle tap on his shoulder roused him out of his angry musings, and Hannibal frowned at Adam for even daring to pull such a move to begin with.

Not paying attention, Adam looked around sheepishly before he asked in a boyish way, “Do you think they’ll cause us more trouble, Nigel?”

Utter contempt and hatred etched its way onto Hannibal’s face. “They can’t possibly be _that _foolish,” he snorted, “they ought to seek indolence elsewhere if they have propriety and common sense.”

This answer hadn’t satisfied Adam, as usual. Pouting, he fidgeted nervously as he shifted through the many varieties of cereal flavors, brands, packages, and boxes. When he selected his favorite one, he leaned over towards Hannibal and whispered into his ear, “You’re doing it again…talking like someone else…”

In the past, Hannibal had always considered himself to be a man of patience. It’d taken utmost patience, a skill in and of itself, to be able to hunt down the soldiers responsible for slaughtering his poor Mischa. Sinking his teeth into their flesh once had been worth the wait, and over the course of his life, Hannibal wasn’t averse to sitting back and waiting for things to happen…or fall apart. He loved especially playing a role in the slow destruction of someone’s life.

_“Wind him up, and watch him go…”_

“Nigel,” Adam’s voice slammed into his eardrums again, and Hannibal found it quite difficult to ignore the neediness Adam displayed and presented all over. Both his face and his body language seemed to suggest that he wanted and needed far more attention than the amount Hannibal was already giving him.

Frankly, it drove Hannibal quite mad. Wasn’t this a grown man?! What more in the name of ‘validation’ was he searching for?

Feeling his jaw and temples clench and tighten, Hannibal snarled under his breath, “Do you have what you came for?”

Pointing at the basket still hanging around his forearm, Adam answered, “I do!”

Chin jutting out at the contents of the basket Hannibal vowed never to even stare at once they exited the store, he ordered, “Put the cereal in there, and let’s pay for the items. I’m tired.”

As he walked away, he heard Adam crying out at his back, “But Nigel! Your cigarettes?!”

Spinning around, Hannibal barely managed to squeeze out, “Pardon?”, when Adam raced to the front counter.

Waving his hand excitedly as though it were a flag at the grocery store owner, he profoundly sang out, “Can I also have a pack of cigarettes, please?”

Gaping at him for a moment, the store owner then lifted a brow as he muttered, “You’re going to damage your lungs by smoking at such a young age…” Still, he didn’t argue further, and he handed over the carton before he scanned the rest of Adam’s items.

At the present time, Hannibal was in an unfortunate dilemma. As much as he wanted to drag Adam out of the grocery store kicking and screaming so he could knock some sense into his skull due to his patience thinning, that wasn’t going to work in his benefit in the slightest. Unfortunately, neither would arguing and trying to set down the filthy carton of cigarettes. Adam was a meticulous creature, and he would do doubt notice the disappearance of the carton.

Well. Hannibal supposed it would have to do for now. Yes…he was willing to continue playing along in the game that was whatever tickled this young man’s bizarre fancies. However, he vowed to somehow keep the carton lying around for the sake of display, but he would absolutely throw out the cigarettes sooner rather than later.

And he wasn’t at all fearful of how Adam was going to react if he ever found out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn it, Hannibal! At least smoke ONE cig!! Adam was so nice to get you a gift!! :(


	6. Scattered

By the time the odd duo made it back to Hannibal’s apartment, the sapient doctor felt nauseous. Since he’d been somewhat gifted with smelling and being embedded in ‘fresher’ air than the oxygen floating around in the apartment building, he was despising to return to this garbage dump of a place. At least it was a lot quieter, with majority of the tenants already in bed or watching TV.

Mundane. Banal.

Adam was beyond exhausted. He initially helped place the frozen food in the freezer compartment of Hannibal’s white fridge, and afterwards, he sat down on the old sofa while turning on the TV. Already, Hannibal was searching for a classical music station and channel, whereas Adam was moving it to a program about space exploration. Ensuring that he didn’t sit at all close to the young man, Hannibal eyed the remote control Adam was currently holding. He was clasping onto it for dear life, practically.

Wanting it for himself so he could move forward with his agenda and try to put on some decent programs, Hannibal muttered, “May I please change the channel, Adam?”

There was a prolonged, pregnant pause.

Slightly miffed, Hannibal tried, “May I please have the remote, darling?”

….

Silence again served as his reward for being socially polite, calm, and appealing to Adam’s good nature, so it seemed.

Very well. He had other ways to make Adam hand over the damn remote.

Slamming a hand down powerfully on the surface of the coffee table had been the first step towards asserting his presence, as well as gaining Adam’s undivided attention. It was a difficult feat, no less, considering how finicky and fidgety the youth was.

Squirming around on the sofa, Adam held tightly onto the remote control. This was a move of utter defiance, and Hannibal wasn’t going to put up with it a second longer. He slammed his hand down once again on the table, ignoring how badly it burned and singed through his palm and bones.

Eyes set like stone and steel, he roared and demanded, “Give me the damn remote, Adam!”

Scowling, though more so at his own feet than at Hannibal, the disturbed youth shrieked, “No! Not until you tell me why you said to Harlan that you’re quitting the things you enjoyed doing, and not until you tell me why you keep talking funny!!!”

“For goodness sake, Adam,” Hannibal drawled, inhaling sharply as he fixed the younger man with a rather pointed look, “I _never_ enjoyed smoking!!” Anger flaring, he added at a propitious moment, “and I’m _not_ going to smoke!!”

Chin quivering, Adam seemed more offended than ever simply because Hannibal refused to smoke. Cleverly, the former doctor knew that it was more so only because Adam associated the cigarettes with being as something of a ‘gift’ from himself to ‘Nigel’. Hannibal’s refusal to accept the ‘gift’ was a deep insult to Adam’s nature, and as empathetic as the young man was, Hannibal still saw no reason to accept the putrid gift.

Nose turned up at the cigarettes to show his clear disdain for them, the air suddenly grew turgid as Hannibal-not at all being uxorious as he should’ve been, ground out irritably, “Put this out of your mind right now, Adam, for if you’re considering pestering me about it later, then I’m afraid I’m going to have to encourage you to quit while you’re ahead.”

Knowing they wouldn’t get anywhere if this argument persisted, Hannibal reached for the remote control as he snapped, “Hand it over, now.” Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to ensorcell Adam into giving him what he wanted. The channel that was currently fixated on an elderly man seated on a stage while delivering quite the lengthy speech and harangue about the cosmos persisted.

Turbulent. Problematic.

Unrelenting, Hannibal finally resorted to the only thing he didn’t want to do. However, if it meant that he’d be granted some peace and quiet, finally, he was willing to actively participate in boorish, crude activities to get that underway.

Head snapping towards Adam like that of a robot or a puppet, he growled, “Hand over the fucking remote.” Sitting back and crossing his arms over his chest, he counted down the seconds when he knew the words had taken an effect over Adam.

As he suspected, it worked to his advantage. Sniffling, Adam practically tossed the object towards Hannibal as if they were playing catch with a ball. Deftly snatching it between the palms of his large, masculine hands, Hannibal nodded curtly at Adam, and then immediately switched over to the classical music channel he often frequented when cleaning the apartment. At once, the screen had been filled with the still image of a large aquarium housing various exotic fish and a small reef shark. While the aquatic animals swam about, Ruhe Sanft, Mein Holdes Leben by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, Zaide, Act 1: Zaide’ aria began melodically. The soprano’s serene voice and superb skills immediately set Hannibal’s nerves at ease

Trying to lose himself to the music in order to relax, he’d barely shifted back and closed his eyes halfway, when he heard loud sniffling.

Knowing who was causing it, Hannibal growled rudely, “Be quiet.”

“Nigel,” Adam hiccupped, “why’re you s-so mean to me?”

‘Because you annoy me’ had been the answer dancing on the tip of his tongue, but that wouldn’t suffice, realistically. Instead, Hannibal opted for indifference. Shrugging coldly, he answered in a stiff manner, “I’m not being mean; you’re reading everything incorrectly.”

“I’m not!” the retort came hurtling at him, then, “I j-just missed you, Nigel, and I want t-to try and b-be here with you, and you’re p-pushing me away!!”

And to think that _this_ was coming directly from a man who was twenty-two-years of age. Charming. No wonder Hannibal not only didn’t mingle with younger people, but he also despised making friends with them, as well as even having a relationship with a single one. Not that Hannibal had ever even attempted that; he valued his brain cells, and he wasn’t going to subject himself to that kind of torture. What made matters worse was that he was ‘stuck’ in this situation, and he knew fully well that when he’d offered marriage counselling and couple’s counselling before, the couples that usually faced the highest number of obstacles and issues happened to be the age-gap couples.

Given that, Hannibal was constantly availing himself to the fact that Adam was twenty-six years his junior. It was statistically and scientifically proven and already set for failure. He’d be no greater than one of the biggest and most idiotic fools alive to delude himself into entertaining the precocious whims of Adam Raki. Even for the realms of fantasy, this was beyond absurdity in its truest form. No matter what, it wasn’t going to work, and Hannibal wasn’t in the habit of leading people on, especially when it came to matters of the heart. He’d only allowed a select few people to really get close, and every time he’d handed out the privilege, he’d lived to regret it.

Will Graham…

Feet padding along the length of the floorboards had finally been responsible for Hannibal snapping out of his reverie. Glancing around the apartment, he sneered when he caught sight of Adam standing up and heading towards his bedroom.

“I’m going to sleep,” Adam announced blandly, heading for the bathroom first. As he switched on the lights, he poked his head inside the tiny space, and then announced, “I misinformed you; I’m going to use the washroom, first, use the facilities to prepare myself for sleep, and then I’m going to sleep…and I want you to join me, Nigel.”

Thankfully, Hannibal knew how to control his heartbeat at times. Otherwise, he was certain it would’ve shot through the ceiling after what he’d just heard.

(--~*~--)

Sleeping next to another man?? This wasn’t entirely a new experience. Hannibal remembered in his youth that he had no choice but to force himself to tolerate being wedged between Mischa and one of the brute soldiers so very long ago. It had been a means of sharing body heat, but Hannibal still despised being next to any individual-regardless of their gender-whom he didn’t share the slightest bit of warm feelings for. With any lover, it’d always been a case of chasing after a sexual heat that was more troublesome for Hannibal than anything else. He simply had his desires, and he was expressing them in whatever way he could. He wasn’t sure when sex had become a chore for him, but whenever it had, he sought relief in his own musings and machinations. Sex was more often than not a burden, and quite a messy experience. Though not entirely unpleasant, he hadn’t sought it out majority of the time, and if he had, all his partners had been women.

With Alana Bloom, the relationship had been one-sided. He was using her, setting up the trap already in his mind the moment she opened herself up to him. When he’d set the bait for her in the form of a question, ‘Why didn’t we have an affair?’, he was surprised that she put up a minor resistance…at first. Her layers were quite easy to peel. As with other younger, foolish, enamored women around him, she too had flocked towards him with the immature ideation that he wished to pursue a relationship with her. Oh, how delectable. He ate up and consumed whole her heart and soul since she so freely offered it to him on a silver dish. Though the sex had been quite enjoyable, Hannibal was still ravenously desiring another anytime he and Alana were joined.

Not usually one to lust after and fantasize about someone else in the middle of a sexual encounter, Hannibal tried pushing aside his odd thoughts. However, he soon discovered and learned that the more he tried ignoring Will Graham and forcing him out of his mind, the harder the stubborn man fought back. Even in dreams, Will Graham refused to let him go. Like a novice when it came to the art of sex and lovemaking, Hannibal found himself submitting and bending to the criminal profiler’s beck and call. Supplying-for the first time ever in his life- a man’s body in place of a woman’s during sex, Hannibal began imagining he was sleeping with and making love to Will Graham in the night. Throughout the day, he found himself sublimating his growing attraction for the man in ways befitting his then-stance as a psychiatrist, Hannibal kept his distance from Will whenever he could.

Throughout their evening and nightly meetings, he lost himself deep in the welcoming, warmth of the eyes of the man he was growing quite fond of, but he prided himself for never taking it too far. The small ways in which he could ‘enjoy’ Will had always been the most exciting aspects of his time spent with the man. Sniffing at him whenever Will wasn’t noticing it, eyes roaming along his body behind the protection of the darkness and shadows, and retreating to his memory palace whenever things became far too intimate and ardent for his sake had been the only way Hannibal coped with his feelings. When he came forth openly with Bedelia and didn’t deny that he’d fallen in love with Will Graham, he knew he was seriously considering spending his life and opening the doors leading to his world with another after so very long. Gender hardly mattered when it came to this topic. Just like with Abigail, Hannibal felt he could always ‘adopt’ another daughter or perhaps a son with Will, and they could grow in their little family in the future. The fact that he wanted to take Will into his arms and hold him until dawn wasn’t impeded by the fact that he was a man. Gender meant nothing to Hannibal when he loved someone, so it seemed.

Although he’d never had sex with a man, he wasn’t feeling anything going against wanting to do just that with Will Graham. It _was_ possible, then, but as long as he truly desired and longed for it. That was as far as _his_ preferences and life was concerned, but what of Nigel Ibanescu?

Realistically, Hannibal hadn’t paid much attention to it in the past, nor had he cared enough to. Almost reaching the age of four, he came to learn that his father had a brief affair with a Romanian woman who’d served as a housemaid for the Lecter family during the course of ten months. The blossoming romance came to an end when Hannibal’s mother caught the woman’s perfume and scent all over her husband’s clothes and bed sheets. As a result of the abrupt, untimely end of such a tryst, the woman had been sent back to Romania without payment. Unfortunately, the product of that affair came in the announcement of a letter, and then a photograph of the baby boy. Naturally, Hannibal’s father doubted the child was his, but after a DNA test, his doubts were put to rest.

Nigel Ibanescu was Hannibal’s half-brother, and he’d been raised not knowing who his real father was until the age of nineteen. From the time he’d been born up until he first reached out to Hannibal, the two men had been separated by countries and plenty of differences in cultures. Their life experiences also set them vastly apart, and Hannibal didn’t want to reach out to Nigel and ‘connect’ or ‘bond’ with him. He was content with the knowledge that Nigel was a stranger, would remain that way forever, and they would never come to learn and discover anything about each other.

Of course, that remained quite difficult when Nigel consistently mailed Hannibal letters, sent him postcards, gifts, and other childish, foolish trinkets. When he learned that Hannibal wasn’t going to send anything back or try and establish a semi-brotherly relationship, Nigel reacted by being quite crude and disgustingly abhorrent in his communication with the older man. At first, he’d only resorted to sending salacious photos of models clearly clipped and cut out from pornographic magazines. But then, Nigel’s validity of his sexual prowess and experiences were made more tangible when he sent Hannibal photographs of his girlfriends. With a new one at least every other month, Hannibal laughed at the younger male’s lack of consistency until the entertainment had been cut short. Nigel got married, then, settling for the woman with the heavy makeup and bright red short hair. Like many things in Nigel’s life, there had been a pattern already there, and Hannibal-as removed as he tried being-noticed that Nigel only sought after the sexual company of _women_, too.

Clearly devoted and dedicated to the red-headed woman, Nigel went about his life, presumably, and the letters stopped. But then, why hadn’t he made Hannibal aware of the fact that he’d taken a new lover?? Especially a _man_?

Considering quite a few personal theories, Hannibal eventually settled for one that made the most sense, give Nigel’s dangerous lifestyle and never-ending risk-taking personality. It was more than likely that Nigel had kept Adam Raki a secret not because he wasn’t confident with his sexual proclivities, but instead, it’d been likely because he loved Adam more than the woman he’d previously been married to. He’d have had to, for there seemed to be no other reason as to why Nigel had so carefully and so cautiously been secretive about Adam. Shielding him away, keeping his existence a secret; it was only because he didn’t wish to lose Adam. The less people who knew of him, the better, so it seemed.

Moronic.

Didn’t Nigel know of the brutally harsh, cold nature and reality that stated how easy it was for fate to change? Wasn’t he aware of the fact that _nothing_ in this world was forever-lasting? It was all fleeting; here one day, gone the next. Putting an effort into protecting others only served as a catalyst for their luck running out. Cataclysmic failure and doom were always looming on the horizon, and if it was time for tragedy to strike, no one would be spared. As bleak as that line of thought was, it served a greater purpose than to be caught unawares.

But now, the only thing Hannibal felt he wasn’t prepared for, was whether or not he was going to be expected to perform sexually to please Adam. The murderous man found he was willing to go as far as fake smoking if it came to it under the circumstance of an emergency, but there was just _no_ conceivable way he was going to sleep with Adam Raki. Hannibal had already strongly and firmly decided this. It went against his morals and ethical codes. He’d never entertained the idea of even taking a female lover as young as Adam, let alone a male, and a partner who suffered from a disorder such as Asperger’s Syndrome. To even touch the young man would be assault! Adam couldn’t possibly consent, and Hannibal was truly convinced that Nigel’s tenuous nature and tenacity had been responsible for Adam giving in to the other man’s whims. Nigel didn’t appear to live by any moral code, and Hannibal wouldn’t put it past Nigel to purposefully toy with and gaslight Adam Raki into thinking whatever they’d had was ‘romantic’ and consensual.

Disgusting. Vile.

Well. Hannibal was definitely _not_ half as shallow as his deceased embarrassment of a stepbrother. No matter what, he vowed that he wasn’t going to lay a finger on Adam.

Unfortunately, Adam Raki seemed to hold other plans. The moment he exited from the bathroom with his hair brushed back neatly, teeth and face washed and cleansed, he nestled his mint-scented body right on the edge of the bed next to Hannibal. The older man was simply waiting for the bathroom to be unoccupied so he too could wash up and then possibly figure out a way to kick Adam out of his bedroom. He’d almost figured it out when Adam opened the door, pranced back out, and nuzzled right up against him.

Leaping up to his feet, Hannibal crossed the scant distance from the edge of the bed and into the bathroom. Thankful for his long legs, in no time at all, he was inside the tiny bathroom. Ready to close the door, he casually yanked on the door handle, and he’d almost closed it, when it stopped moving. Frowning, Hannibal yanked on the handle harder, and he pulled with all his strength. Something was stuck in the doorway…

Craning his neck around to have a look, Hannibal nearly paled when he caught sight of Adam Raki’s upper torso already halfway in the bathroom, while the door had been caught between his abdomen and midriff. He was trapped in and out of the room, it appeared, but he hadn’t made much of a sound. Wincing in pain was all he seemed to do, and he hung his head down in mortification while wriggling and sucking in his stomach all the way to make room for himself to slide the rest of the way in.

Moving back, Hannibal let go of the door handle, and it banged open against the wall as Adam burst into the small space. Rubbing his sore chest and abdomen, he let out a pained cry before spinning around and casting his eyes down at the green tiles of the floor.

“Nigel,” he rasped weakly, still rubbing his sore body, “are we going to shower together?”

Shivering in disgust, Hannibal heavily growled at him, “A little decency would go a long way, Adam.”

Scratching his nose quickly for a moment, Adam gushed, “B-but we’ve seen each other naked many times before, Nigel.” Blushing deeply, he added, “We’ve sh-showered together, we’ve had swimming lessons together, we’ve g-gone to saunas together, and we’ve had sex in the shower more times than I can count.”

Feeling dizzy and nauseous, Hannibal wheezed, “I see…” Was there _anything_ Adam was willing to keep private?! He was so forthcoming and unabashed, especially for a man of his age. However, his confessions had at least cleared the questions and doubts churning within Hannibal’s mind as to whether or not Nigel had ever been sexually intimate with the young man.

He supposed Nigel had always been willing to stoop so low…

Motioning at the standing shower that sparkled only thanks to hours of Hannibal’s steadfast, dedicated cleaning, Adam purred, “Come on. I c-can give you a massage if you—”

“No,” Hannibal quickly refused, standing before the sink and mirror as he glared at his own reflection cast within its glassy surface. “I’m going to prepare for bed, Adam, and that’s it.” Turning on the faucet, he began adjusting the temperature of the water as the younger man waited behind him and stared down at the water swirling and swishing about.

Murmuring to himself, Adam eventually whispered, “You’re kind of grouchy tonight, Nigel…are you sure you don’t want me to—”

Quickly reading through the tawdry implications before Adam could finish his voicing his thoughts, Hannibal snapped as he splashed water over his face. “No!” he nearly found himself screaming in nothing but burning rage, “I don’t need _anything_ from you, Adam!!” His hands and fingers scraped and scrubbed, and he wished he could scrape and scrub away from his mind the nasty ideas floating around regarding Adam and Nigel.

Spuriously spewing a haphazard warning under the guise of a gentle phrase indicating that he had a headache, Hannibal hung his facial towel on an old, silver hook before quickly brushing his teeth. The entire time he did the deed, he felt Adam’s curious eyes burning little holes in the back of his skull due to the intense way he was observing him. Though their eyes never met in the mirror, even feeling the heat radiating off Adam’s body due to his close proximity was enough to drive Hannibal mad. His frenzied thoughts kept roaming over towards territories that weren’t any of his concern, but the thoughts came uninvited and unrestrained, anyway.

Suddenly, he was imagining Adam showering all alone, the water dripping, sliding, and glazing along his broad shoulders before it cascaded down the curve of his back and landed on the swell of his pert ass. As the steam and dew of the warm water rose up and fogged the glass walls of the shower stall like a majestic waterfall, the doors would slide open, suddenly, and Nigel would join Adam. Both stark naked, the men would embrace each other shamelessly, their limbs entangled as they danced slowly beneath the spray of the water.

Nearly crumbling and breaking apart when it occurred to him that he was technically imagining and thinking of his half-sibling having sex with another man, Hannibal spat out his toothpaste and rinsed his mouth out. Next, he adjusted the water temperature to cold, and he didn’t hesitate in the slightest to give himself a douse of cold water to the face.

What was wrong with him?! Why was he thinking about two men having sex? Especially considering how one of these men had recently passed away, and the other one was standing right behind him…and looping his arms around his midsection as if it were one of the most natural things to do…

Straightening himself up, Hannibal stared into the mirror. Adam curled his chin and draped it over his left shoulder, eyes closed as he inhaled and hummed deeply. He was at the very height of his comfort and happiness, and he cooed and purred like a kitten nestled beside its mother. His arms tightened around Hannibal’s midriff even more, and he sighed out romantically, “I’m _so_ glad you’re back home, Nigel.”

Hannibal was _not_ glad. Not in the slightest bit.


	7. Rotten Fruit

Hannibal grabbed a pillow, an extra blanket, and he shoved them both towards Adam’s chest. “Take those,” he instructed in a more so demanding way rather than a persuasive one, “I want to sleep immediately, Adam, and I will say goodnight to you, now.”

Gazing down at the pillow and blanket as though they both were deadly weapons, Adam’s eyes widened before he gasped out in a panicked breath, “What’s this mean, Nigel?”

Too exhausted to go in circles and speak in riddles, Hannibal bluntly spat, “This means you need to go sleep somewhere else.” When he saw the shock flooding over Adam’s eyes, he cut in with, “You’re welcome to stay here if you want for the night, but you can’t physically be in my room, on my bed, or lying next to me, Adam.” Would he understand, now??

Looking as though he was going to have a nervous breakdown, Adam took one glance at the white pillow before he reached out with both hands and knocked it out of Hannibal’s hands and down to the floor. Following the path it fell, Hannibal sighed weakly, “So you want to sleep on the floor, then?”

“Nigel!” Adam exclaimed in bewilderment, “h-how can you do these mean things to me?!”

Unperturbed, Hannibal brushed back a stray bang that curtained forth into his eyes. “I’m not doing anything to you, Adam,” the logical, factual side of himself pointed out, “I’m just suggesting that you can sleep anywhere you want, but not—”

Stomping down almost petulantly with his foot, Adam barked vehemently, “No!! I’m staying right here with you, Nigel, and I’m going to sleep with you on your bed like we always used to do!!” Eyes slightly dewy and pink, he added, “How can you want to change everything?! This is different for me, and I d-don’t like thing that are different!!”

Aware of this, Hannibal saucily snapped, “Don’t be a recalcitrant brat, and let me get some rest! I’ve already told you that I’m not feeling well, Adam!” His manipulative side kicked in, swaying the emotions seeping forth from himself into Adam, a mere puppet of how Hannibal wished to toy with the younger man, and he loved being the puppeteer.

“If you care about me as much as you claim, then you’ll leave me be, just for tonight.”

Thinking it would end there, Hannibal offered Adam a perfunctory nod. As he bent to pick up the discarded pillow, he heard the very last thing his ears had been expecting to take in spewing forth from Adam’s lips.

“I’m _not_ leaving, and it’s because I care about you.”

He’d lost. For the first time in decades, Hannibal Lecter’s superior gaslighting techniques and powers of manipulation had failed him…and all because of one young, inexperienced brat. How could this be?! All these years of psychological training, education, guidance, carving his own path through brutality with the sword of vengeance he crafted and wielded for himself, and for what?! To what end?! He’d taken down greater, smarter opponents than this! Adam Raki was no foe! To call him as such was a great offense, and Hannibal slammed and locked the door on that notion altogether before even entertaining the idea.

Here he stood, one of the strongest men-in his own opinion-to persevere and never break in the face of such extremities and difficulties, and yet…did it matter?? Was everything a mere mockery of the suffering and painful ordeals he’d gone through in his past? Could it have been that the glorious days of his past had been smothered by his present situation?

He’d taken down the Great Red Dragon, he’d toppled the empire of the Verger family, exposing it for what it was in the deep underbelly of corruption, he’d pulled off one of the greatest and most intricate forms of chicanery to baffle and stymie Jack Crawford for two full years, he’d manipulated and broken his own personal psychiatrist, he’d destroyed the hopes and dreams of half of Italy while their children lay awake in sheer terror as to when and how Il Mostro would strike next. Hannibal Lecter had achieved so very much in the name of success in his lifetime, and he wasn’t simply going to stand by idly and allow someone as naïve as a child with a temper befitting a spoiled heathen take that all away from him.

He’d worked so hard…

Irater with the fact that Adam hadn’t fought or struggled back like the brat Hannibal knew he was, the former mental health practitioner gripped Adam’s pillow, and he flung it back over his head roughly. It collided with the soft mattress, bouncing once up into the air before nearly falling off the edge of the bed. Adam’s eyes followed every motion it made, and like an innocent puppy, he stood by and waited for his ‘master’. The way the youth’s eyeballs traced his movements disturbed Hannibal to some degree. He wasn’t accepting at all of having a young person with a limited understanding and grasp of social concepts and constructs following him about, latching on to him, and expecting so much from him. He couldn’t do that with someone who was intelligent, yet not when it came to social and psychological symbolism. That seemed so wrong, unethical, and quite damaging.

Adam made a move for the pillow, and as he did, Hannibal crossed over towards the bedroom door.

“Where’re you going?!”

Having already expected a silly question like the one he’d been given, Hannibal retorted waspishly, “I’m sleeping outside on the sofa. Make yourself comfortable on the bed, then.” Before he could even push open the door further to make way for himself, Adam yanked on his shirt collar, and Hannibal was spun around forcefully.

Snarling like a captured beast, Hannibal tried breaking free of Adam’s hold on his shirt, but it was pointless. The youth had already set his mind on something, clearly, and the obstinate brat was going to see to it that this went through, one way or another. As importunate as ever, Adam insisted verbally that ‘Nigel’ was being silly, and that they were going to go to bed together, just as they always had done before…

Trying not to panic, Hannibal allowed Adam to push him back onto the bed, and he quickly got a hold of himself before insults flew forth from his lips. His energy was slowly being drained, and he didn’t have much more of it left in order to push Adam away. He’d decided right then and there as soon as the back of his sore legs hit the gentle, soft mattress, that he was willing to just go to sleep on that very same bed, but only if certain ‘adjustments’ had been made, first.

As much as Hannibal detested to admit it, he was still human, and he was but a mere man. Perhaps he reigned supreme when it came to psychological enhancements and his defense mechanisms of the mind, or his powers of psychosexual sway and seduction, but he was _still_ a man. He had a sex drive, and he knew that his biology was going to respond to the feeling of a warm, pliant body pressed firmly before his own. It wasn’t a thing he could control, and he was adamant on preventing an embarrassing reaction before one arrived.

And what could happen?

For Hannibal, or any man with a libido, nothing else was expected in terms of a reaction than developing a prominent erection if pressed up against someone else. Male or female wouldn’t matter, especially since Hannibal had recently become aware that he was more of a pansexual than anything else. What made matters worse was that Adam Raki and Will Graham even looked alike…

The solution was simple, then. He grabbed one of the pillows, and as he timed it perfectly, he shut off the bedroom lights, tucked the pillow firmly between his legs, and then crashed down onto the mattress with Adam already lying on his back and glaring up hatefully at the ceiling. Evidently, as long as someone was next to him, he didn’t appear to need the use and help of a nightlight to get to sleep. However, Hannibal kept one of the table lamps on, just in case, anyway. Unlike some, his eyes weren’t super sensitive to light, and even if a small amount of it was on, he could still go into a deep sleep.

Vowing to do just that as soon as his stiff shoulders hit the pillows and mattress, Hannibal turned around and ensured that the pillow was still down firmly clamped between his powerful legs. Once it was, he slowly rolled his sweater off his upper torso, making sure that the uncovered, left side of his neck that definitely didn’t sport the same tattoo Nigel had was concealed and kept away from Adam’s eyes. Even though the youth was glaring at the ceiling, Hannibal wasn’t going to risk it and leave himself open to being caught. In the morning, since he knew he couldn’t walk around in sweaters constantly, he was going to have to think about a plan regarding the tattoo he didn’t have. Perhaps he could always bandage the spot up, lying about accidentally nicking himself with a razor during a routine shave?

Endless possibilities…endless lies…good.

Content with all that for now, Hannibal hardly breathed audibly. He wanted to remain as quiet and as alert as possible, just in case Adam felt the need to snoop around while he slept. Already prepared for that, Hannibal draped one leg towards the edge of the bed, leaving it there close to the floor so he could leap up to his feet…if the occasion arose. With his pillow nestled between his legs, he’d barely closed his eyes for a few seconds when Adam sniffled next to him.

It started off as a tiny sound one could ignore if they put their mind to it, but then it grew louder and more obnoxious. Adam was sniffling like a lost little boy, and soon, whimpers accompanied the set of already annoying sniffles. Hannibal wasn’t sure if he could put up with it, especially coming from a man who was twenty-two. This was outrageously stupid.

Hardly turning around, he growled, “What’s your problem, now?”

As he predicted, Adam started crying, and his blunt nature enforced him to push out between tightly clenched teeth, “_You’re _my problem, Nigel!!” His voice cracked and broke a few times as he delivered another round of whimpers and sobs, each of them more pathetic than the previous one.

Rolling his eyes, Hannibal groused, “Why can’t you be mature for once in your life, Adam?”

Hiccupping weakly, Adam screeched as he twisted himself about, “I’m not doing a-anything!! You’re th-the one ignoring me without telling m-me if I did anything wrong!!” Sitting up in bed, then, he gripped Hannibal’s right hip which was exposed before himself. Fingers curling around the bone, he snapped irritably and impatiently, “You’re acting l-like I’m embarrassing to you or something! I think!!!”

“You think?” Hannibal retorted by reiterating the same word, “well, I don’t want you to ‘think’, Adam; I want you to be sure…if at all possible.”

Somehow reading through the dripping sarcasm, Adam cried petulantly, “Are you a-acting this way because you’re ashamed of me, Nigel?! Tell me the truth!!”

Truth…the truth…of course he would desire and yearn for the truth, but of course, Hannibal vowed to never freely give it to anyone.

Grumpily, he slammed his larger hand down on the back of Adam’s at his hip, and he forced Adam’s hand off his bone. The limb crashed onto the mattress, and since Adam let out a tiny yelp, Hannibal figured he must’ve used quite a bit of strength behind the motion.

Squirming forward, Adam turned himself around, and he pressed the front of his lower body against Hannibal’s ass. “Niiigeeelll,” he sang and whined out, “what did I do???”

Hannibal had been prepared for an assault in the front, but not behind himself. He hated to admit it, but given how Adam’s slender body was grinding and pressing against his back and buttocks, it didn’t take much time for his nether regions to tingle with a slight interest.

This wasn’t good.

Unrelenting, Adam whined some more, his voice and pitch growing louder and more desperate with each passing second he was ignored by ‘Nigel’. He clutched at his older lover, accosting him mainly through nonverbal actions. Before Hannibal could react, he spun him around to face himself. Snarling, Hannibal lost himself to Adam’s youthful strength and stamina, and as he tried holding onto his pillow between his legs and pressing a hand against the side of his neck that clearly didn’t have a tattoo, he left himself open and vulnerable to Adam’s sexually precocious whims.

Adam took advantage of the situation immediately. As soon as Hannibal was facing him while trying to readjust his pillow, Adam kneed it out of the way. Hands fumbled for it, but Hannibal was too slow. Adam had already sealed the gap between their bodies, and as soon as they pressed flush together, the younger man’s heat eased itself into the older man’s.

Hannibal let out a strained gasp as a result. While he wasn’t shocked by Adam’s ruthlessness and boldness, he was more so surprised with how quickly he sported an erection. Already, he found himself half-hard, and things were spiraling out of control too much too soon.

Adam seemed content with the fact that ‘Nigel’ was facing him, now, and he grabbed and cupped Hannibal’s chin in a hand as he sighed, “You’re mine, Nigel; always and forever as you said, right Nigel?”

Hannibal wanted to lash out with the worst of insults, but then Adam let out a tiny satiated moan, and he spun around. Now, his back and lower torso were inched and pressed up against Hannibal’s front, and he wrapped the older man’s limbs around his waist. Spooning into Hannibal in a rather comfortable position-at least only for himself-Adam lay his head on his thick pillow and softly breathed out, “Let’s go to sleep now, Nigel.”

How?!?

Stirring, Hannibal tried snaking his arms out of Adam’s vice-like grip, but then Adam had to go and chase after Hannibal’s arms. Inching himself back, he arched accidentally up into Hannibal’s chest and front.

“Nooo, Nigel!!” he half-moaned-half-cried, “stay here!!!”

Wriggling back, Hannibal realized he was almost dangling off the edge of the bed. Knowing he had nowhere else to go, he moved forward as he pleaded, “Adam, just release my hands; I can’t sleep like this.” As long as he remained calm, collected, and logical about this, then there was no way things would turn out for the worst…

….

Sadly, he was proven to be so very wrong.

Frustrated, Adam moved against him, writhing and gyrating his hips and ass directly into Hannibal’s lap. The older man literally saw stars. He threw his head back, bit down hard on his tongue, and resisted the urge to rut back against Adam’s ass. It’d been way too long since he’d had sex, and even longer since he’d relieved himself in any other way. The things Adam’s lower body was doing to his lap and cock were unspeakable…

Hissing, Hannibal managed to cough out, “Adam…don’t…ugh!”

“What’s wrong, Nigel?” came the super innocent cry. It was so damn innocent and boyish in its delivery, that Hannibal began weeping tears of frustration. Everything burned and ached within his loins, and he tried keeping out of his lusty mind images and thoughts of just pushing Adam’s face down into one of the pillows while he dug himself into his ready and open body. Perhaps he could do that and pretend it was Will’s body his desire and sexual fascination was writhing against…

Perhaps???

Emitting a deep growl, Hannibal glared forward at the back of Adam’s skull. His bangs fell into his eyes, curtaining his vision. The room spun and blurred, and the old light bulb in the table lamp flickered. It wasn’t as if he could see much…what difference would it make? A ready and willing body was as good as any…

…..

Only it would be so very wrong…

“Nigel,” Adam purred in such a needy tone, and it only sent more delightful sensations in the form of shivers running up and down Hannibal’s spine, and more tingling pooling from the base of his cock right to the tip.

Groaning in frustration for the hundredth time, Hannibal propped himself on one elbow, and he loomed over Adam. When the younger man tried turning back to face him, Hannibal’s free hand shot out, and he shoved Adam’s head back down onto his pillow.

Snarling, Hannibal ordered, “Don’t stop moving your ass.”

Fuck it. It felt way too good, and he didn’t care much anymore. If it was a beast Adam wanted to see, a beast he would have, then.

Seemingly bewildered for a few seconds, Adam wheezed softly, “Nigel? What do you—”

With a low growl, Hannibal pushed Adam back around so his shoulders were at level with his chest. An arm snaked down the younger man’s sternum, then, and Hannibal placed his chin over Adam’s left shoulder. Though he barely touched the man there, he felt nothing but a fiery heat so intense that he nearly melted upon impact. Making sure to lift his head up a bit, then, Hannibal ground his own hips purposefully right into Adam’s firm ass. And holy hell, was the younger male ever toned and built nicely.

Usually, Hannibal dated and was intimate with older women, and women closer to his own age. A few of his so-called ‘colleagues’ in the field of psychiatry and medicine in the past had regaled to him that sleeping with younger people had always been quite a treat, and he should’ve dabbled in it for himself from time-to-time…

Well. Hannibal had always dismissed this quickly as bumbling and garbage blabbering coming from incoherent fools who only wanted to partake in pleasures of the flesh without any other thought or foresight. It wasn’t a matter of not enjoying sex. Hannibal loved sex. He loved it as much as he loved high-quality cuisine, however, he wasn’t in agreement with sex being carried out with a squalid partner. He’d always sought out the right person, even Alana Bloom…as nosy and as childish as she’d been.

Alana had been the youngest partner he’d taken, and it’d required a lot of goading internally on his part to do the deed. He was very well aware that she was attracted to Will Graham at the time, and he to her, and when Will had been imprisoned, in swooped Hannibal with a shoulder for poor Alana to cry on. It didn’t take long for her to shift her confused feelings onto him, and after spending more time with her, he had her playing for him like a beautiful Stradivarius. Although he’d enjoyed the shape and feel for her lovely body nude for him night after night, Hannibal had been more drawn to her from an artistic perspective than a lover. He wasn’t ever able to think of her as anything other than his former pupil and apprentice, and that was it. Whenever they’d slept together, he hated to admit it, but he’d mentally prepared himself by picturing Will Graham naked on his bed writhing and panting in desperate need while calling out his name like a canorous prayer…

Yes. That had done well to get him fully erect and tumescent in seconds, and then he was ready to do whatever Alana wanted to do. However, strangely enough, the more Hannibal tried thinking of Will Graham right now on his bed in his dingy apartment at whatever ungodly hour of the morning it was, he found that it wasn’t useful at all.

Adam’s spasmodic motions were driving him mad with a frenzy he’d never known and never felt before, and Hannibal supposed that served as a chicanery and distraction enough for his troubled thoughts. No, under any other circumstance, he would _never_ break his own moral-ethical codes by stooping to such a low level as the one he was about to stoop down to.

…Only, this happened to be a special case, and Hannibal was willing to move along with that as a palatable explanation. Yes, he vowed to never look back after tonight, and as long as this seemed ‘consensual’ enough, he was going to enjoy it.

Leaning over Adam’s warmth, he hissed in his ear in a nasty, domineering manner, “Who told you that you could stop moving? Hmm?” A hand gripping Adam’s hip, now, Hannibal pressed and rubbed their heated bodies deliciously closer. “Keep going.”

Swallowing thickly so loudly it could be heard, Adam whimpered, “O-okay, Nigel…” Back and ass gyrating wantonly, he asked, “Like this?”

Yesssss…just like that.

Garbled nonsense flew out of Hannibal’s mouth; he could only delight in the friction created against his cock, that was what he was going to solely focus on.

The young man before himself was moving at a snail’s pace, and it was both refreshing, and yet so damn annoying. One would think that this was the first time Adam Raki was doing such a thing, and an irritated and sexually frustrated Hannibal Lecter considered asking that question waspishly. However, he knew that if he even dared to do such a silly thing, Adam would likely freeze up, and discontinue the activity. Slamming back into Adam’s ass powerfully when he couldn’t take the slow, languid pace was all Hannibal could do to encourage the younger man to keep on going.

And what a joyous pleasure it was to take on a much younger lover, indeed. Although still shy in his motions, Adam didn’t appear to run out of stamina. In fact, he soon began taking the lead, draping his own arms over Hannibal’s at his waist. Hannibal didn’t mind, and he paid it no heed as he held on tighter and buried his nose in the back of Adam’s neck. Immediately, his sharp nose scented baby powder, fruity shampoo, and Adam’s natural body odors that were somewhat salty.

Interesting.

Resisting the urge to clamp down on Adam’s pale neck, Hannibal quickened the pace, ramming into Adam so powerfully, that the younger man gasped and panted in broken heaves. The noises spurred Hannibal on, and he had to wonder for a brief moment why he was resorting to behaving like a shameful, hormonal teenager at the cusp of puberty. Why was he thrashing and gyrating against Adam this way?!

But it felt way too good to think about anything logical, now, and he quickly cast that thought aside as he plowed his aching cock right between Adam’s legs through his jeans.

Finally, with one last herculean thrust, Hannibal was spent. Like a fifteen-year-old, he came in his underwear and pants, cringing as he held onto Adam’s firm waist the entire time he shook against his frame. Adam didn’t appear to be experiencing that same pleasure, but Hannibal couldn’t care less. The selfish side in himself had been pleased and his appetite had been satiated. That was all he’d needed, and now that he had it, he saw no other reason to linger about. And why would he, after all?? For an awkward post-coital conversation? For the opportunity to explain ‘why’ and ‘how’?

Not a chance.

Tearing his arms off Adam, he rolled to his side and slowly rose off the bed. His mind and body registered how unclean and disgusting it felt between his thighs, and he had a strong reason now to tear across the bedroom and make a beeline for the bathroom. Reaching it, then, he slammed the door behind himself, ready for a shower before he could sleep.

On the other side of the tightly shut door, he heard Adam whimpering out, “But wh-what about m-me, Nigel?!”

Ah. So Adam was aroused, too? It didn’t matter; he didn’t care at all.

Turning his nose high in the air, Hannibal double-checked if the door was locked. When he had that solid confirmation, he hissed out, “Go to bed, Adam.”

Only a few more arguments were offered before the bedsprings groaned and creaked, then the sheets rustled one final time before all movement ceased from the other side of the bathroom door.


	8. Now or Then

Not even a bright, cerulean sky filled with the seductive songs of birds and the humming of busy bees helped Hannibal’s nerves the next morning. After his shower, he’d resorted to sleeping on the living room sofa, much to his dismay and discomfort. Thinking he could get away with spending the entire night there, his body had unforgivingly reminded him of his age the following morning. His neck was stiff, his shoulders were sore, his spine felt cramped, and all his muscles felt twisted under a horrific level of pressure he didn’t need at all.

Damn his persistence.

Adam surprisingly didn’t sleep in. He woke up some time after seven-thirty, even though Hannibal was beyond certain that he didn’t have to go to work…it _was_ a Saturday, after all.

The younger man entered the kitchen at the exact same time Hannibal retrieved some ginger from the fridge. Wielding it up away from Adam’s inquisitive eyes, the older male grabbed a clean pot, and started filling it with the purest, cleanest water he purchased from a store a few blocks away. He would rather die than drink the atrocity within ‘bottled water’…

Urging himself not to think about it lest he wanted to vomit profusely all over the damn floor, Hannibal poured the water into the pot. He felt eyes burning little holes in the back of his head, and when he turned around, he saw the tip of Adam’s pink nose jutting forth. Adam was awfully close to him, and he stared down at the pot of water soon to begin boiling.

Ignoring the youngster at first, Hannibal turned on the stove, and then leaned his body against the appliance. Strangely, Adam mimicked him, leaning his weight on the appliance as he sighed in a dreamy way.

Irritation swept through Hannibal’s system, and he turned, grabbed Adam’s hips, and then scooted him aside. “Out of my way, Adam,” he ordered bossily, “this kitchen isn’t large enough for two bodies.”

Blinking awkwardly, Adam then slowly rubbed the sleep from the corners of his eyes. “Th-then I guess I can sit down,” he offered, but then frowned, looked around the kitchen, and started to argue. “Nigel,” came his monotonous hum, “this kitchen measures at least—”

“I don’t want to hear the damn measurements,” Hannibal snapped in annoyance, “I don’t give a shit how many square feet and inches it is, or how wide it is; just leave me the hell alone.”

Of course, Adam didn’t listen, but that was hardly surprising to Hannibal. While the young man prattled on and on about everything and nothing, Hannibal slammed cupboard doors open and shut, moves utensils around noisily, and stomped around in circles in a wasted effort to drown out Adam’s rambling.

It didn’t take long for Adam to point out bluntly, “You’re making a lot of noise, Nigel.”

“No shit,” Hannibal hissed sardonically, and then cringed as he realized to his sheer horror that he’d responded and reacted just in the same way as his vociferous, rude, uneducated, uncouth deceased stepsibling.

Charming. He really was starting to lose all semblances of control playing this damn game to the end. Now, he was beginning to wonder how long it would take before he snapped…or broke…perhaps both, and there was no telling in what order.

For now, Hannibal wished to break away from those thoughts, seeing as they were useless. It was foolish to ponder about the future. All he could control was the present, and losing Will Graham had really been a lesson to him as far as planning too far ahead was concerned. It was better to focus on _now_.

Doing precisely that, Hannibal began lightly peeling away the rough skin of the ginger before cutting it down to perfect slices. As his sharp knife worked away, gliding and slicing over the ginger root, he imagined blood spewing forth as he cut through Adam Raki’s arteries, his delicate pale skin, his throat, his veins…his capillaries…all of it would soon be opened before himself like a bounteous fountain of ruby…

…And like that, at the snap of magic fingers, Hannibal was pulled from his daydreaming that teetered on reverent terror, dark and murderous thought as Adam stood next to him stubbornly.

Fool.

Tilting his head down at the slices of ginger, he asked softly, “What’re you doing, Nigel?”

Searching for the shredder, Hannibal decided to give in. “I’m preparing some ginger tea,” he elucidated while trying to remain calm and level-headed, “it’s quite beneficial for the body in so many ways.” When he gazed back and caught the sight of Adam gazing intently, eager to observe, absorb the information he was being given freely, something warmed up in the pit of Hannibal’s stomach almost involuntarily.

The older male loved it when someone was willing and so open to listening and being educated, especially by his own whims. Adam nearly reminded him of Abigail right away, especially when he’d been discussing the effects of psilocybin mushrooms and tea with her in his kitchen so long ago. Ever the eager, bright young girl, she was like a sponge; hungry and thirsty for more knowledge. It delighted him just as it delighted him now to know that he was again in the presence of a younger person so readily accepting his words.

Nodding as he indicated silently for Hannibal to carry on, Adam purred, “What else does ginger do for the body, Nigel?”

Beaming, Hannibal’s fingers worked like magic as he shred away the inside parts of the ginger slices. As the blades of the shredder worked, Hannibal spoke in low and hushed tones, reeling Adam in as he delivered his lengthy lecture.

“In Asian and some Middle Eastern cultures and cuisine, ginger is used for balancing the body. Ginger has a lot of warm properties,” he expounded gently, dropping in the shredded bits into the pot at precisely timed intervals while the water boiled and bubbled up. “The heat begins internally, working its way up through the system. You’ll find that after ingesting it some way, the effects are instant, and far better than taking a pill.”

Smiling, Adam asked, “What are the effects?”

Grabbing a spoon, Hannibal stirred the mixture, and then reached into one of his cupboards. Yanking out a jar that contained organic-based honey cubes, he dropped them into the pot as he replied, “Pain relief, for starters…” As he stared down into the pot, he could taste the tea already, and he began salivating. “Muscles and bones will be warmed naturally, and a lot of joint or bone pain is best dealt with this way. Headaches are alleviated as well, which again, seems to be far more effective than chugging down an Ibuprofen.”

Moving towards his fridge, he fetched the carton of milk, and he measured about half a cup before pouring it in. Adam cooed when he watched the milk being added into the pot, and he inhaled as he hummed, “Smells good, Nigel!”

Hannibal had to agree. “Smells good, tastes great, feels fantastic on the body.” Turning down the element’s temperature, he continued mixing and stirring with his spoon counterclockwise until the liquid ceased boiling and bubbling.

Drawing forth a strainer from a drawer nearby, he tipped the pot by the handle and carefully drained the tea while fishing out the largest bits of the ginger flesh. Adam continued observing every move he made in fascination, not even budging until Hannibal poured the hot beverage into a small cup. When his back was turned, Adam dipped his index finger into the cup and tasted a tiny drop of the tea.

As soon as he lapped at his finger, his eyes blew open all the way. Letting out a definitive shriek, he leapt up in the air a good few inches. “OOOUUUCH!!! It’s hot!!”

Spinning around, Hannibal fixed him with a heavy, stern scowl. “Did you just dip your finger in my cup?”

Adam could only nod while he cradled his slightly burnt finger.

“Then I don’t feel the least bit sorry for you.”

“Nigel!!” Adam protested childishly, “it’s hooootttt!”

Understanding that he was referring both to the actual temperature of the beverage as well as the sensation of his mouth and tongue burning up due to the ginger, Hannibal shook his head in displeasure.

“I told you,” he began warily, snatching the cup of tea and carrying it as far away from Adam as he could, “ginger’s like that, and I suppose you had to learn this lesson the tough way.”

Face scrunching up in disgust, Adam whined, “I don’t like it!”

“That’s hardly surprising.” Sitting down before the pathetic mockery of a ‘kitchen table’, Hannibal grabbed the morning paper and began reading without another word.

Shyly, Adam gazed down at him, and it’d already started getting on the former doctor’s nerves. Raising his paper, he ensured to block Adam’s face with it, but the young man clearly wasn’t having any of it. Soon, an odd ‘game’ of sorts went on between them.

Hannibal would do his best to block out Adam’s inquisitive eyes, and the younger male would dodge every time. The paper would lean to the right, and Adam would soon edge to the left. The newspaper shifted to the left, then, and Adam would go right. It inched up, and the youth curved himself downward. Down it came, then, and Adam responded by getting on his toes to peek down.

Enough was enough.

Lowering the newspaper, Hannibal bemoaned, “Alright, what do you want?”

Plopping himself down on the opposing chair, Adam then drew it towards Hannibal, the legs scraping along the floor louder than necessary. When he was close enough, he leaned back and proudly chirped out, “I want you to talk to me, Nigel!”

Hannibal cleared his throat, “I _am_ speaking to you.” The word ‘unfortunately’ hung back on the tip of his tongue, and he forced it down his throat.

Adam shook his head, “No!!” He looked at the newspaper blankly, “Pay attention to me, Nigel!!”

Grinding his teeth together, nothing aside from sarcasm dropped from Hannibal’s mouth. “You’re not a puppy.”

Blinking rapidly in confusion, Adam replied, “I know, Nigel!! I’m a human being; a homo sapien!”

Of course.

Annoyed, Hannibal sniped curtly, “My point is that there’s no need to behave this way.”

Pouting immediately, Adam cried while leaning himself forward, “I command some respect, Nigel!!”

“No,” the older man corrected swiftly, “you demand my attention.”

Eyes narrowing in dangerous slits, Adam observed Hannibal taking a sip of his tea. After a few seconds, the brunette saucily snapped, “You’re usually not this mean after sex.”

Practically choking on his hot tea, it required all the self-control he could muster for Hannibal to keep his drink down. Swallowing thickly, he held a hand to his throat before rasping, “I beg your pardon, Adam?”

Swinging impatiently back and forth on his seat, Adam rang out cheekily, “I let you have an orgasm, and you didn’t return the favor, but I’m not angry at you or being mean!!”

Voice shrill, Hannibal squawked in awe, “A social filter would be great in this case, Adam.” It was quite a foolish statement to make, especially considering how most people with Asperger’s Syndrome didn’t understand the concept to begin with.

Latching onto that note, Adam snootily hissed, “Most Aspie’s don’t know what social filters are.”

There was a thick, pregnant pause, and then suddenly, boisterous laughter emitted from Hannibal. The former psychiatrist didn’t even realize why he was laughing, nor could he prevent the loud chortles reverberating and spilling out of himself in large waves. All he knew was that he’d been bewitched, practically out of nowhere. One minute he’d been sitting in the bright kitchen, ready to verbally bash and degrade Adam, and then the next minute, he’d felt a swarm of sensations akin to experiencing a deep-seated itch. The rest had all occurred naturally, which deeply disturbed and frightened Hannibal to his core. He’d never regarded a single part of himself to be even remotely close to ‘natural’, yet now, he was chuckling as if he’d always been meant to do it?!

Why?! How?!?

His laughter continuously pierced through the fresh morning air constantly pouring into the apartment thanks to a small window he’d purposefully left open ajar. His jaw ached terribly after a minute, and yet, Hannibal Lecter couldn’t bring himself to cease and desist the odd laughter...over and over, his deep voice bounced off the walls, and shortly after, tears leaked from his eyes so freely...so unrestrained...

...Real tears...he even felt them by pressing a few fingers over them. There, he found that sure enough, they most definitely were _real_.

He didn’t know whether to laugh harder, or to genuinely cry.

(--~*~--)

Adam hadn’t found his laughter amusing, and he’d proven it for the rest of the morning by avoiding Hannibal as though he had some kind of dangerous, incurable disease. Hannibal was certain that Adam was assuming that his previous rounds of laughter had been at his expense, and as a result, he stayed away from Hannibal.

This suited the older man just fine. He had a lot of cleaning to do, still, and as long as Adam didn’t get in his way, so much the better.

The day sped by relatively quickly. They each did their own things without communicating a lot, but it didn’t appear to trouble or bother Adam. He abided by the set ‘routine’ he had established for himself. At exactly 12 noon, he microwaved a small plate of Macaroni and cheese, and then he was off watching his shows and programs on the TV. At least he had the decency to turn the volume down significantly in comparison to the last time, and Hannibal found that if he closed the bathroom door, it helped keep the noise at bay.

At least two hours sped by before a knock was delivered to the front door of the apartment. It sounded much like a death knell; booming horrifically out of nowhere. Hannibal and Adam both seized up. Adam turned off the television, and Hannibal clamored out of the tiny bathroom. Though he was somewhat grateful to emerge from the bleach-infused air of the small, cramped space, he was fearful, now. No one ever knocked on his door...he was careful with incoming mail, and he’d already spent weeks observing how the rest of the tenants in the apartment went about their days...

Adam walked past him in the front hallway, clearly heading towards the door. That was when Hannibal snapped to attention. He’d been far too gone and far too lost in his thoughts that he’d nearly missed what was happening right before his very eyes. As if it’d been taking place deep down in the ocean, Adam approached the door as another knock sounded quite boldly. To Hannibal’s reverent terror, the young man raised a hand, and he was reaching for the lock…

Hissing in anger, Hannibal shot forth out into the hall, and he grabbed Adam roughly by the shoulders.

“Wha—”

“Shh!” Hannibal spat at him in anger, clamping a hand down powerfully over Adam’s mouth. Once he’d effectively sealed the boy’s mouth, he got in the way between Adam and the door, and he squinted into the little round, glass peephole. He had no idea who he’d been expecting, but Hannibal felt caution was vital in this case. For all he knew, it could’ve been that ‘Charlie’ man, ‘Darko’, or perhaps even Jack Crawford. Anything and anyone could’ve been there, and the former psychiatric professional didn’t think it was a paranoid move on his part to be extra cautious.

However, it wasn’t anyone he was likely worrying it would be, and Hannibal relaxed considerably when he gazed into the apartment hallway and saw ‘Beth’ standing on the other side of the door. She held her hands together expectant of something, and as she worried her lower lip, she leaned forward and knocked again. It came as an even greater ‘boom’ to Hannibal’s ears now that he’d pressed himself to close to the door.

Sighing, he released his hold over Adam. “It’s your friend.”

Perking up, Adam whispered, “Harlan?”

“No,” Hannibal corrected, “Elizabeth.”

A frown marred Adam’s normally calm, rested face. “I think you mean ‘Beth’, Nigel…” scoffing, he added, “You never call her ‘Elizabeth’…”

His patience already was short, and as Hannibal sniffed, he felt fresh scents of bleach hitting his nostrils. Annoyed with the powerful odors more than he could tolerate, he groused, “Whatever, Adam. It’s your friend, and I want to know why she’s here at my door!”

Paling, Adam hissed, “Shh! Nigel! What if she hears?!”

“I _did_ consider that, Adam,” came the sarcasm at once, “but I don’t really care.”

Before Adam could argue back, a soft feminine voice called out to them from the other side of the thick door. “I can hear you both, you know.”

Batting his eyelashes in ever the sardonic manner, Hannibal motioned at the door, stance wide as he purred in a phony way. “Oh dear! Whatever shall we do now, Adam?”

“Stop it!” Adam glared daggers at the older male, and he unlocked the front door for Beth in a hurry. As he opened it up, it swung to the side to reveal Beth’s worried features.

Her brows were furrowed, her eyes were squinted in concern, and she was chewing on her lower lip as though it were gum. She straightened her body posture once Adam held the door widely for her and stepped out into the hall to greet her.

“Beth!” Though he made no move to hug her or initiate physical contact, Beth gently stepped to the side, and she bestowed a small hug unto Adam that lasted no more than a few seconds. Her long hair had been tied and held back into a ponytail, with a few dark brown tendrils escaping and hanging low on her purple colored spaghetti strap top. Her jeans were a bit too loose, but they hugged her hips and figure well enough as she stared past Adam and over at Hannibal. It didn’t even take two seconds before she scowled in a most foul way.

Never having received a reaction such as the one he’d been currently gifted with, especially from a female, Hannibal decided right then and there that he wasn’t too fond of this ‘Beth’. She seemed to be far too suspicious of him already, and she didn’t appear to be in favor of his presence…well, more accurately, Nigel’s presence, to say the least. But above all that, Hannibal didn’t like that Adam was so open with all his friends. The last time Hannibal himself had tried that, it ended up teaching him quite a jarring lesson and delivered a good sense of reality breaking through his rose-tinted lenses.

Perhaps Adam needed such a lesson, too…

Cutting to the chase immediately, he remained direct and forward in his approach as he asked, “What do you want?”

Beth snorted as she folded her arms over her chest and shook her head. “I don’t even understand what in God’s name Adam sees in you, Nigel, and I doubt I ever will. You’re as rude as ever, as disgusting as ever, and to be honest, you could use a damn shave.”

….

Hannibal changed his mind; he _really_ didn’t like Beth at all.

Wanting to be direct as well, Beth ignored ‘Nigel’ completely, and she addressed Adam. “Sweetie,” she sighed, “I just wanted to drop by for a chat, but I knocked on your door a few times and found that you weren’t home. I got worried, naturally,” she explained on in a light drawl, “and so I talked to Harlan, and he told me that Nigel had returned from Bucharest!”

Hannibal quirked a brow, but otherwise allowed her to continue.

Turning her nose up at him high in the air, she concluded, “I’ll admit, when I first thought I saw Nigel, I was so happy to consider it my imagination…” Emitting a strained, subdued sigh, she concluded, “I hate that it wasn’t a figment of my imagination, unfortunately. It appears you’re back, Nigel, so let me be the best hostess I can possibly be, and I’d like to invite both yourself and Adam over for tea and some cake and cookies.”

She appeared to desire anything other than entertaining Adam and Hannibal for the evening, and the doctor snorted as he crudely commented, “Very well, if you insist, _Beth_.”

Sneering, she snapped, “Don’t eat too much of it though, Nigel; you have high blood pressure, remember?”

While Adam looked way too excited about the prospect of feasting on cake and cookies, Hannibal let out a derisive chuckle at Beth’s previous comment. He stated rudely, “And _you_ should take your own advice Beth; those carbs won’t do your figure any good.”

Freezing up for a moment, Beth eventually forced a smile onto her face, turned around, and then hissed, “Jump up your own ass and die, Nigel.”

_He already has._

“We’ll see you shortly then, Beth.”

When Hannibal shut the door, he found he genuinely was looking forward to learning about what kind of a hostess Beth would be, after all.


	9. Quagmire of Innocence

Hannibal took his time getting ready to head over for cake and tea at Beth’s with Adam in tow. Already, the younger man was prepared for the event, properly dressed in a blue dress shirt freshly washed and ironed. Buttoning it up to the very last button, he’d pulled it from his apartment closet not long after Beth left. He kept on his cream-colored dress pants and combed his hair neatly before checking on ‘Nigel’.

Frowning mildly at him when he discovered his older lover dressing up in a black and white pinstripe three-piece suit with a black tie to go along with it, he coughed out shyly, “Umm, Nigel, you can just...”

Peeking at him from over his shoulder, Hannibal hissed thinly, “What?”

Shrugging nonchalantly even though they both knew it didn’t match how he felt on the inside, Adam only supplied, “Beth won’t care how you dress either, Nigel.”

Slicking his long hair over to the side, Hannibal parted it so it leaned to his right temple. “Hmm,” he deeply hummed, “well, since Beth’s such a lovely woman, I feel compelled to look lovely as well, darling.” Feeling grateful that Adam wouldn’t ever latch onto his liberal sarcasm pouring forth like a potent stream, the tall man paced out into the front hallway of his apartment. 

Though Hannibal was quite eager to get this ordeal over with, Adam appeared to be pondering something while they both put their shoes on. 

Tilting his head, Hannibal drawled, “Don’t worry, I’m sure her exuberant attitude and words shall cater toward a fantastic night, indeed.” 

Uncomfortably, Adam muttered, “I still really don’t understand why you’re talking like that, Nigel, but I just wanted to say that even if Beth isn’t happy you’ve returned, I am.” Solidifying the sincerity pouring out of himself, Adam closed the gap between his body and Hannibal’s. A hand landed on the former psychiatrist’s chest, right close to his heart. In fact, a few more inches to the right, and Adam’s warm hand would be seeping heat directly into Hannibal’s sternum...

Unable to comprehend how and why he’d permitted the strange youth to cross the scant distance between them and initiate close physical contact as this, Hannibal mentally scolded himself for being rather careless as of late. 

Inching back out of the hall, he opened the door and ushered Adam out without another word. He was in no mood for empty conversation...for now.

(--~*~--)

Hannibal found it relatively amusing how much Beth was struggling to keep the disgusted, disgruntled expression off her face. He admired her self-control, as pandering and fleeting as it happened to be. Human beings displayed quite a lot of odd idiosyncrasies at times. Their emotions switched and swayed as rapidly as unpredictable weather patterns. Always opting for donning a socially acceptable and polite ‘mask’, they often held back far too much. However, Hannibal had the gift of deeper behavior analysis, and right now, he was beyond thrilled and amused by Beth’s displays and struggles. She really was battling internally not to disturb and offend Adam. 

Such loyalty...what a shame it was wasted. 

While Adam made himself comfortable in the living room, shoes already long since abandoned in the hallway, Beth and Hannibal fixed each other with displeased glares that barely scratched the surface in terms of how they truly felt about one another. 

“Beth?” Adam gently prodded, “may I please watch some TV?”

Eyes not tearing off Hannibal, the young woman cried back, “Of course, hon.”

As the TV blared on a few short seconds later, Beth scoffed at Hannibal’s suit. 

“What’s with the fancy suit?”

Unperturbed, Hannibal answered plainly, “It’s just a manner of dressing.” 

Enjoying too much how the waves of annoyance swept over her, Hannibal’s face remained impassive, which he knew would drive her up the walls. 

Stomping a foot down lightly, she hissed no louder than a serpent slowly slithering away in a thick, grassy field. “I know _that_, Nigel,” she retorted grumpily, “but what’s the occasion?” 

Selecting the option to reply back in full ‘Nigel mode’, which he was beyond certain would drive her even more insane, Hannibal clicked out testily, “The occasion is that I’ve been reunited with my sweet, darling Adam, Beth...” Pausing, he yelled out, “Right, Adam?”

Adam nodded and answered back innocently, “Right, Nigel!” 

Lowering his voice to a hushed whisper, Hannibal continued, “Oh, yes, and I must say, I missed rounds and hours of _lurid_ sex.” 

His lewd, bawdy implications spooked Beth. She turned as gaunt as the walls. 

Ensuring that he kept a most friendly smile plastered on his face any time Adam snuck a glance over at them, Hannibal pressed on with more concupiscent, sexually charged words, knowing each time he used one, it would slam into Beth’s comfort zones, push her boundaries, test her patience.

He lived for it.

Eyes bearing down into Beth’s, he stated salaciously, “In fact, I think I may have to call it an early night, Beth.”

She looked appalled, sick, and frightened. It made Hannibal swoon in rapture knowing he’d pushed her to such a length. Making people feel uncomfortable was something he excelled at, and he was thoroughly pleased to know his skills were still sharper than a brand-new knife. 

When Beth had been too silent, Adam lowered the volume of the TV to cry out, “What’re you two talking about, there?”

Hannibal grinned triumphantly, eyes still on Beth. “Nothing of interest to you I’m sure, darling.” 

“Oh...I want some cake, Beth!!” Adam’s demands pierced through the air, causing Beth to snap to attention.

Bustling into the living room, then weaving her way through it and into her kitchen, she replied, “Sorry, sweetie; Nigel distracted me is all.”

While she opened the door to her fridge to fetch the cake, Hannibal had a deeper gander at her apartment. It seemed just as neat and orderly as Adam’s. The grey carpet at his feet and spread all over the living room floor had recently been vacuumed. Her walls were painted in a peachy pastel pink tone, making everything cozy and warm in appearance. Things smelled fresh, clean, and her windows sparkled in the evening light. An array of magazines and books sat about on her coffee table, and Adam re-arranged them to the right edge of the glassy table as the commercials blared on the TV. 

Pacing around the sofa, Hannibal tucked back a few old, thick quilts that lay draped on the side of Beth’s three-seat sofa. He caught traces of her own dark brown, long hair strands, as well as white cat fur...

Interesting.

Once she’d grabbed three forks as well as three saucers made from fine China, she handed them out to ‘Nigel’ and Adam. Laying one out for herself on the seat of a small loveseat next to a random black stool by the TV, she made her way back into the kitchen for one last trip. 

Cheerfully, she sang out, “Taaadaaa!!” Holding the raspberry vanilla cake on a tray, she finally set it down on the glassy furniture in a lovely display. 

Adam cooed, “Looks wonderful, Beth!!”

Clapping her hands together, she echoed, “It sure does!” Pointing at Adam, she asked, “Soda, right sweetie?” 

The youth nodded, eyes fixated on the thick cake instead of on his hostess. 

Turning to Hannibal, the bright smile immediately disappeared from her face. Moodily, she snapped, “And I take it that you’ll want coffee then, Nigel?” 

Hannibal only huffed, “Very well.” 

“Poison would be better, though I don’t have it at the moment,” she commented icily, and when she had, Adam gaped at her. 

Eyes wide, he rang out, “Beth!! That’s not nice!!” 

Shaking his head plaintively, Hannibal stated openly, “It’s the only treatment I expected, and you didn’t let me down, Beth.”

Placing her hands on her hips, Beth took up a defensive stance. “You’re welcome, Nigel!” she hissed acerbically, “I can’t be any sweeter to such a _nice_ guy, can I?”

Once she sat herself down, she began slicing through the cake. Her motions and patterns were far too delicate and concise. 

Sitting beside Adam, Hannibal reached forward with his dominant, powerful right foot, and aimed a deft kick for one of the table legs. Then, he followed it up by acting as though he’d merely been trying to get more comfortable and accidentally knocked a thick kneecap into the underside of the glassy table. 

As expected, the plates, utensils, and cake bounced up right when Beth had been in the midst of cutting the last slice of the scrumptious dessert for herself. The result was perfect. Cake icing splattered all over Beth’s clean shirt sloppily, staining it messily while she screamed in fear and tried grabbing at her utensils before they fell down to the carpet. Unfortunately, she missed, and the knife-completely covered in icing-smeared the carpet. 

Letting loose a wild, antagonized wail, Beth pointed an accusatory finger right at Hannibal. “You jerk! You did that on purpose!!” 

Blinking innocently while he knew Adam was watching him closely, Hannibal spat, “I don’t know what you mean, Beth; anyone can see that was a clear accident and a case of my foot getting caught for a moment.”

“You _do_ know what I mean!!” she argued back, hard-pressed to attack him constantly. “Since you walked in here, you’ve been acting more obnoxious than usual!!” 

Snickering impishly, Hannibal cut in with, “Has anyone ever told you that you’re cute when your cheeks are flushed pink with your contempt, Beth?” 

Adam rolled his eyes as he turned to his lover. “Stop it, both of you.” Though his voice still remained bored and blasé, he added testily, “Beth’s being a nice hostess, Nigel, so please don’t bother her.” 

Sputtering in disbelief, Hannibal ignored the triumphant gleam shining forth his way from Beth’s eyes. However, Adam quickly turned to her, next. 

“And Beth,” he began standoffishly, “stop picking on Nigel. This is a ‘welcome back’ party for him, so I don’t want you two fighting all night.” 

Now, Hannibal had donned the face of the ‘winner’ of the skirmish. It was a look he wore with sheer pride, especially at Beth’s expense. 

Throwing her arms up into the air, Beth sighed in defeat. “Alright, I give up.” Regretfully glancing in Hannibal’s direction, she grumpily spat, “I apologize, Nigel; let’s just try to get along, for Adam’s sake.” 

Bowing his head, Hannibal purred, “For Adam, yes.” Though venom and hate lingered and was shared back and forth between himself and the young woman next to Adam, Hannibal was still adamant on composing himself while behaving and communicating like Nigel. He regretfully knew this was still all a ‘show’, and an effort to keep in line with the clever chicanery involving assuming the identity of someone he loathed and was happy knowing had passed away, but he focused and put all his concentration on ‘passing’ himself off as Nigel Ibanescu. 

Keeping up with those appearances, Hannibal had cleverly covered up his neck by propping the collar of his suit up, and he ensured that he remained as far away from Beth’s curious, wandering eyes as possible. Thankfully, she was more focused on consuming her own cake and taking an interest in the conversation she currently held with Adam than to be bothered by whatever ‘Nigel’ was doing.

Vowing not to utter a word, Hannibal pushed aside majority of the icing on his cake, examining that it was far too sugary. Yes, it even smelled as though it would create cavities, and he knew right then and there that he wasn’t going to be eating it at all.

Still holding onto his plate while he decided what to do with the cake, Beth and Adam degusted their portions, though the deglutition process seemed far too slow for Hannibal’s tastes. They seemed beyond ‘thrilled’ and ensorcelled with the pastry. Never really one to stand in the way of foolish inspiration, Hannibal could only limit his behavior to smiling at the appropriate times, nodding his head, rolling his eyes, and then gazing back at the TV. It was on a lower volume, but it was loud enough that he was able to hear the program on Space adventures and discoveries.

The topic was beyond bland and dull to him, and without having much else to do, Hannibal thought of Nigel.

Well, he was more or less concerned and curious as to what it was that Nigel and Adam actually had done as a couple. It was relatively obvious to Hannibal that Adam and the deceased older male had been intimate, but that was to be expected of any couple in a serious relationship. But there was always more to a relationship than sex, which begged a few questions.

What other activities did Adam and Nigel enjoy partaking in together?

Where did they enjoy traveling?

Had they even travelled a lot?

Were they working on any projects or goals together?

Puzzled beyond belief, Hannibal secretly admitted to himself that there was actually quite a lot of mystery still lingering behind the scenes when it came to Nigel Ibanescu and Adam Raki. The former psychiatrist realized he knew next to nothing about both men, especially Adam.

….

He realized a terrifying, gripping reality just then as he sat in Beth’s living room early into the night with Adam. While the younger man’s gentle voice spoke in hushed tones with Beth, Hannibal Lecter turned one last question to himself.

_Why am I suddenly so curious about Adam Raki?_

This truly was the first question that left Hannibal feeling frozen, stunned, confused, and lost. He hated more than anything else in the world feeling lost, and he almost began to resent Adam for instilling such feelings in himself to begin with. Such a useless, banal, insipid waste of his efforts…damn this boy…damn him to hell!!

Though Hannibal Lecter knew he should’ve despised Adam Raki more than anything else in the entire world, and though he knew that it would be wiser to only regard the youngster with an eye of malice while cursing him to the ends of the earth and back, Hannibal found that he couldn’t ever bring himself to doing such a thing. No, even wishing for it seemed to singe and burn something deeply buried within himself…

….

What was this cowardly feeling, where had it originated from, and how could he extinguish the fires coursing within?!

As the questions stirred and swam around in his head space, Hannibal felt his mood turning rather sour. Now, the stoic, taciturn male kept to himself, but Adam and Beth didn’t appear to mind it enough to critique or pick on him for it.

Time didn’t exist to him, then, and Hannibal sat and stewed in his own internal rage for the rest of the evening.

(--~*~--)

As a therapist, Hannibal had always been in the habit of taking notes down before and after each patient he was visited by routinely. Even as a younger man, Hannibal usually kept a notebook, and while he never treated it like a diary, he always referred back to it whenever he felt conflicted, pained, sorrowful, grieved, or astounded by mysteries in life he was incapable of grasping.

Right now, Hannibal felt he couldn’t make heads nor tails of Adam’s place in his life. Unfortunately, all he saw was red, hot chaos when it came to the twenty-two-year-old. Not only was Adam’s life quite disturbing and chaotic, but now that Hannibal had been sucked into Adam’s world, he felt that his own life was also spiraling out of control and turning hectic. Chaos seemed to seek chaos out, perhaps for company, perhaps for more.

Frustrated since he’d been spending more time with Adam Raki than necessary, Hannibal not only tried to distance himself for the sake of his sanity, but he also stayed away so he could put all his mental energy and concentration on note taking. It was a skill majority of social workers and mental health professionals sought to keep up so long as peace and silence was available, and as such, it was quite the ubiquitous desire only to be withheld from Hannibal, so it seemed.

Though he’d tried sequestering himself in the confines of his apartment as much as possible while encouraging Adam to simply ‘go home’, he discovered that it backfired rapidly in his face. Much like ordering and commanding a child not to eat before supper, Adam Raki did quite the opposite. Yes, he did as he pleased, and the more Hannibal tried pushing him away, the more the younger male crept closer and closer and closer…

Annoying. Ruthless.

Sensing that the hot-headed youth wasn’t going to be easily discouraged, Hannibal used the tool of ‘reverse psychology’ on him instead. Stating that Adam was more than welcome to stay in the apartment for as long as he wished, the older male then got back to work as he locked himself in his bedroom and fastidiously took his notes. There were far too many patterns and oddities contrasting in Adam’s behavior, and in order to take it all down, Hannibal truly needed peace and quiet.

Clearly not enjoying that he’d sequestered himself in the bedroom all by himself, Adam showed his disdain through his foul temper. Strangely, although Hannibal would’ve expected such recalcitrance to come from a child no older than six years of age at the most, and certainly not from a man who was already twenty-two, he tolerated it…

Well. If there was one thing Hannibal had recently learned, it was that Adam Raki was quite a special case. Hence why he had to take his notes in the first place. The young brunette wasn’t as easy to read through as the others. No, he had already proven to be unique and unpredictable in his own ways, but not in a bland or insipid manner. No. Anytime Hannibal tried discarding and ignoring the youth’s odd mannerisms so he could toss it all off to immaturity about the world around Adam, the young man went forth and shocked the former psychiatric practitioner.

Fearful of what else he had to learn and discover, Hannibal took to his notes steadfastly. His black fountain pen never ceased moving as he sat down on his bed, his long legs stretched out before himself. His right hand skittered the pen across the white page, a deep, thoughtful frown marring his handsome features as he worked hard.

He’d long since lost his appetite, even, though he felt it hardly mattered as he remained stuck on a note he’d been composing.

After managing to somehow coordinate his notes and ideas about Adam into two separate, distinct categories, Hannibal leaned away from his notebook as he stared at the two columns he’d divided his notes up into. He found that this way, it was a lot easier to try and piece together the strange, enigmatic behavior Adam’s life seemed to be comprised of.

As far as Hannibal knew, there existed a few states within Adam, and he was staring right down at them on his page.

**Adam Raki before Nigel Adam Raki after Nigel**

It made sense to the former psychiatrist to order and fashion his notes this way, especially seeing as how Nigel Ibanescu appeared to be the most important and most influential person in Adam’s life…unfortunately, anyway. Adam was the innocent type who would-like a puppy-follow someone around as long as they showed him a bit of serenity and kindness, and he would imprint on them like a duckling.

Pure innocence, indeed.

For a moment, Hannibal truly wondered what life would be like if he himself had maintained such white innocence for as long as Adam. Would it have made things easier? Would the pains he constantly felt flowing in his veins cease? Would the memory palace disintegrate and instead be replaced by something grander?

Who knew.

While he entertained his odd theories, he began writing things down about Adam in his natural state prior to meeting Nigel Ibanescu.

**Adam Raki before Nigel:**

  1. **Innocent **
  2. **Gentle **
  3. **Chaotic (organization-lack thereof) **
  4. **Easily confused **
  5. **Reluctant in trusting? **
  6. **Moody (if not given his way) **
  7. **What of his parents?**
  8. **Lifelong friendships (Beth and Harlan) **
  9. **Virgin**

Scowling at the page after point nine, Hannibal paused and was taken aback. What had he just written down?! Had he seriously taken time and space on the page to track down and make points about Adam Raki’s virginity?! Why?! Why was that any of his damn business or concern?!

Wondering whether he was growing into some kind of old, perverted coot, Hannibal felt the blood running cold in his veins the longer he stared down at point nine.

From a clinical perspective, he supposed it wasn’t anything strange or bizarre to be curious about someone’s sexuality. A human being’s sexual orientation, sexual proclivities and practices often were a strong indicator of what type of company they kept, how they treated themselves, how they valued themselves, how confident they were, and how they communicated. Sex was a large part of a man’s life especially, and Adam’s nascent sexuality was something that Hannibal was fixated on…from a clinical perspective, he had to remind himself.

Adam perhaps had once been interested in women like Beth, but he’d also confirmed that he’d slept with men like Nigel Ibanescu…or perhaps one man, and _only_ Nigel?

Either way, Hannibal wasn’t certain, but he felt that more than anything, the Adam Raki before Nigel had been a far better, more reserved version of himself.

Such a pity, but it wasn’t surprising, to say the least. Nigel often sullied and dirtied whatever he’d touched, and more than likely, anything Adam associated in his life as far as meaningfulness was concerned had some shadows of Nigel lingering by…even long after Nigel had been buried six feet under the earth and soil.

Keeping this in mind, Hannibal refined his list, now.

**Adam Raki after Nigel: **

  1. **Not so innocent-sullied, but perhaps not to the core? **
  2. **Temperamental so long as he isn’t spoiled (Nigel’s doing)**
  3. **Heavily chaotic-but may still respond well to isolated treatment**
  4. **Socially inept and disturbed **
  5. **Trusting of only those he sees routinely (lack of social alternatives)**
  6. **Ever so moody **
  7. **Highly sexual **
  8. **Dependent more on ‘Nigel’ and his aspiring hopes for a future together **
  9. **No longer virginal**

Sitting back, he viewed the last three points the most, and Hannibal nearly slapped himself in the face for yet again allowed his mind to wander off into putrid, disgusting territories that he had no business prying and poking about in.

This was a fully-grown adult male; not a lamb up for slaughter!! Whatever he wished to do and whomever he wished to sleep with, he wasn’t required to answer to anyone. Begrudgingly, Hannibal had to remind himself that this wasn’t a patient of his. He’d simply taken a keen interest in Adam Raki’s life, and he’d observed him under the guise of pretending to be his ‘lover’. His personal projects had to be kept separately from Adam, and he had to make sure he didn’t become too involved with Adam one way or the other.

Yes. That seemed ‘fair’, and a satisfied Hannibal Lecter closed his notebook. Ensuring that he hid it in a private place beneath the bed, he rose to his feet and padded across the bedroom. Pausing at the door, he pressed a curious ear against the old wood.

Silence.

This wasn’t a good sign, and Hannibal felt a tiny bit flustered. A quiet Adam usually meant that he was up to no good.

Hissing in displeasure, Hannibal’s thoughts ran amok with worry. Adam could’ve been doing many unpleasant, disturbing things while he’d been locked away in his room. Fearful that the apartment could’ve been severely damaged, Hannibal hurriedly unlocked the door’s lock within the handle. Then, as he yanked the door open with much more force than necessary to get the job done, he’d barely had a chance to breathe before a warm rush of air slammed into him.

A shadow was cast into his eyes. Glancing down, Hannibal had been caught up in the midst of trying to formulate a sharp, jagged insult for Adam, when the younger, shorter man leapt up on his toes. Things spiraled out of control far too quickly for Hannibal’s brain to catch up to and comprehend.

Sure enough, he felt the distinct, warm feeling of Adam’s hands wrapping around his neck, his chest coming flush against his own, and then warm lips touched his firmly.

Hannibal was too frozen to even move.


	10. Lone Wolf and an Adorning Swan

Hannibal’s brain was practically on fire with rage. It steamed steadily out of the top of his head, from his ears, pooled in his cheeks, and coiled nastily in the pit of his stomach. His irritation grew and swelled deeply within, rising like bile all the way up his esophagus, throat, and lingered in the back of his mouth. He wanted to scream, he wanted to damage everything and shatter his own world.

But there wasn’t anything he could do in his current state.

Adam Raki was peppering and showering his lips with kiss after kiss, each one more sweet and gentler than its predecessor, and all Hannibal could resort to doing was glaring and scowling daggers at the youth. Hannibal scowled sternly with all his might, and he felt his stares growing harsher and harsher by the second. They could in fact burn holes through wood…

Of course, it was a pointless thing to do.

Adam’s eyelids were tightly shut as he gave his all into the kiss. He practically made it so that he melted against Hannibal, heat seeping and pooling into heat while the petrified, mortified older male remained fated to being frozen.

….

And then, right when Hannibal began to wonder if the situation could get any worse, Adam seemed to grant him the answer way ahead of time. Impatiently, the youth pressed and prodded his tongue against the ever-firm seam of Hannibal’s lips, of course demanding entry to his warm mouth.

Losing his final semblance of control the moment the tip of that warm pink tongue barely tapped against his lower lip, Hannibal was finally able to regain control over his limbs. With a mighty roar, he tore his mouth right off Adam’s, and he gripped the younger man by the front of his shirt. Whipping them both about even though the room was spinning, Hannibal managed to wield enough potent strength to be able to toss Adam roughly onto the center of the bed.

The bed springs groaned and creaked their slight protest, and as Adam stirred angrily, barely able to make eye contact, he roared viciously, “Nigel! You’re such a jerk!!”

Sneering as he wiped his lips quickly, the older man snorted, “I’ve been told before, but do you really think your insults mean much to me?” He found he wasn’t able to rid himself of Adam’s slight apple and nectar-based taste, and immediately, Hannibal felt his guts churning and clenching.

Damn brat!!

Smacking his slightly swollen lips together loudly, he snapped, “What were you doing waiting on the other side of the door that closely for, anyway?” Naturally, his mind only conjured up negative things, and he wanted nothing more than to tear Adam limb from limb for it. However, the ‘refined gentleman’ within himself was persistently patient, and he wanted to give Adam one last chance before he truly lost all control.

Bunching up the wrinkly sheets in his hands and gripping them tightly, Adam tossed out heatedly, “I was trying to get your attention!!”

“Spying,” Hannibal immediately accused, “you were spying, Adam.”

“You were locked in your room all day, Nigel!” the younger male hissed, not paying much credence to the fact that he’d just been accused of something quite irrational. “I thought you were maybe sick! W-what else was I supposed to do?”

Teeth gleaming almost predator-like, Hannibal loomed over Adam as he sneered, “That would _still_ be none of your concern, Adam; I’m an adult who’s much older than yourself, and I assure you, I can take care of myself.” The last thing he really wanted was someone twenty-six years younger than himself not only babying him, but evolving into the role of his caretaker.

Mortifying, indeed.

Not wishing to be mortified further and reduced to embarrassment, Hannibal pointedly spat at Adam, “I don’t like being made a mockery of, you know.” As his eyes flashed and gleamed with a dangerous promise of pain lingering by, Adam sat up on his knees as sputtered in shock.

“Nigel! I’m not mocking you!”

“No?” came the next purr meant to inflict more venom than necessary in his words, “then what’re you trying to do?”

Truthfully, Hannibal was still unnerved and puzzled. All he knew was that he hadn’t accepted fully that he’d already lost control once around a much, much younger person, and it’d bled over into something intimate and sexual. Not wanting to leave the door open for a repeat incident, Hannibal had purposefully kept himself away from Adam, but he knew his efforts were going to be wasted if Adam wished to break down the walls and barriers.

Pushing his longer hair back, Hannibal groused acidly, “You better have a damn good answer for me, Adam; I won’t wait all day here.”

The tension was killing him many times over, and he had no idea why. He should’ve just fled from the room and ignored anything Adam Raki was saying and doing. It didn’t concern him…why did he care??

Stiffly, Adam sat on the edge of the bed, eyes somewhere on the floor while he sighed in defeat, “I wasn’t doing anything; I just missed you.”

A blond eyebrow rose. “Oh? So is that how you show people you miss them, then? By planting kisses all over their lips without being asked?” Hannibal hoped his sudden rudeness would deter Adam and take away from the fact that the younger man’s genuine reply had indeed terrified him to his core.

When Adam glared away in mild confusion, Hannibal added indignantly, “Do you greet Harlan in the same way? Hmm?” When he was rewarded with a pale, frightened Adam, he carried on louder, “No? Then how about Beth? Do you kiss her like that when you see her for the first time after being apart from one another for some time?”

Turning gaunter, Adam gasped brokenly, “Eeww! Nigel!! Don’t be disgusting!!”

Defiantly, Hannibal snapped back, “Well? How else would you answer for yourself then, Adam?”

Fists clenched up in tight, white balls, Adam roared, “Beth and Harlan are my friends!! I’d _never _do that stuff with them!!”

“Be that as it may,” the older male snarled aggressively, “it’s not proper, right?” 

Crossing the scant distance between them, Adam abruptly got in real close. Practically leaning forward so much that their noses touched, he frowned a deep, serious frown that persisted on his face for nearly a full minute. It threw Hannibal completely off-guard. This young thing could be so fearful, so small, so careless, and in the blink of an eye, he’d become aggressive, loud, abrasive, and ever so authoritative.

Underestimating Adam Raki hadn’t at all been a clever move on the good doctor’s part, so it seemed.

Not even taking a moment to blink, Adam rapidly fired out, “Nigel, you’re my boyfriend!!” Face then turning an alarming shade of red, he concluded loudly, “If I kiss you, it’s normal!! I can kiss you _whenever_ I want, same way _you_ should be able to kiss and touch _me_ whenever _you_ want!!”

Before he exploded in pure fury, Hannibal reminded himself to be as composed as possible. Though he wanted nothing more than to lash out at Adam in every way possible, he knew that if he did, he’d create at least a sea of new problems that would no doubt require an hour or two in order to rectify. 

Pointless.

Instead, he opted for remaining cold, and he only regarded Adam with a brute sneer. Though the precocious youth hadn't even backed down from it, he still trembled before Hannibal. That made it all worth it. 

Huffing softly, Hannibal pushed his hands deeply within his dress pants pockets. He took more than a few seconds to study Adam, though he strangely found he wasn’t able to draw as many conclusions as he once had about the young thing...what?? What was this, then?!

Brows furrowed for a moment at his own inner musings, the former psychiatrist-turned-murderer had to wonder what was wrong with himself. It seemed as if somehow, something had bewitched him. Sarcastic insults and sardonically cutting jabs at Adam or his behavior weren’t easily formulated...it was as though his brain had dried up, and his crude remarks had evaporated away...

Clenching his eyes shut, Hannibal turned away from Adam. Pinching the bridge of his shapely nose, he struggled for some air before he was able to keep himself balanced steadily on his feet. Whatever had been the root cause of this to create such intense physical reactions definitely was quite poignant to also render the tall male speechless. 

This had been a first...these sensations...

Tilting his head to study him from odd angles, Adam softly breathed in and out of his nose, nostrils flaring. Hannibal literally heard Adam’s heart racing like a wild hare...yes, there was indeed a distinct rhythm to it...

_Flitter, thump, thump, flitter, thump, thump. _

He was listening intently to it for a full minute before he started swaying like someone freshly inebriated. Feeling heady, Hannibal nearly succumbed to a tiny slumber because of such a pattern. His ears buzzed and rang the longer he listened, but it was so incredibly sweet...

….

There was suddenly something else, too. He’d almost missed it at first, but he caught it only due to how much it stuck out against Adam’s heartbeat. 

_Boom, thump, boom, thump, boom. _

It was his own beating heart.

Frozen stiffly on the spot, Hannibal remained utterly confused. He’d never been able to hear how his heart thrummed in his chest. Of course, he knew very much of its presence, but he’d never paid it much attention before...

He hardly had reason to. 

…Until now.

(--~*~--)

Tearing open his freezer door like a wild beast, Hannibal stood back for a moment just to allow the icy cold temperatures to wash over himself. Eyes moving back and forth in determination, he inhaled once sharply before he reached forward with a hand. 

Fully aware of what he was seeking, he also knew why he’d been called here, and specifically, who was at fault.

This was all frankly because of Adam’s tutelage! It was shy, odd, blunt, ignorant, innocent young Adam Raki who’d awakened such an age-old, archaic beast that had been borne out of pain, disappointment, and suffering within himself! The need...the burning need to devour and consume whole...yes, it was now the driving force of what was responsible for such madness in the first place. 

He’d tried. At least he’d put in a great effort when it came to suppressing all the beasts and hungry monsters. He should’ve been content with that!! After all, what more could a man do? What else was expected of him? He was still mourning the loss of his beloved Will Graham! How could be behave akin to how he once acted?

Demanding such would be improbable, and Hannibal wasn’t a fanatic when it came to the realm of impossibility. That didn’t need to even be considered...

Frozen fingertips helped remind him that he’d been sorting through the compartment a bit too long. Gazing seriously past ice cubes, frozen cake, corn, peas, and a few other frozen food trays Adam had purchased, Hannibal finally located the break in the side of one wall of the old freezer. Tapping on it gently, he waited to hear whether or not the little door he’d fashioned for himself had been tampered with. 

A solid, resounding knock was delivered again close to the vent and fan, and when the tiny the compartment door hadn’t budged even an inch, Hannibal felt the confident waves of relief wash over himself. 

So, Adam hadn’t been poking about, after all...good to know.

Straightening himself back up on his feet, he tore away from the freezer, pushed the door shut, and spun around quickly. 

...Only to smash his forehead right into Adam’s chin. It frightened both men, but Hannibal recovered him his initial state of shock quicker than usual.

Leaping back, Adam screamed abruptly, “Ouch!! What’re you—”

Rubbing his sore forehead, Hannibal spat furiously, “Get out of my way, Adam!!”

What had the brat been doing sneaking up on people in the first place?! Just how much of all of that had he witnessed?!?

Asking just that, only in a milder way, Hannibal hissed, “Did you need something from the damn freezer?!” Unable to stop his voice from growing loud and harsh, he pressed the firm length of his body against the door of said appliance, almost as a way of already trying to dissuade Adam from poking about in there. 

It was only when Hannibal’s piercingly dark eyes began to wander up and down Adam’s body that he realized one thing.

Adam hadn’t come here for the fridge or freezer...

A moue of plain disgust found its way onto Hannibal’s face immediately. “Why the hell are you dressed like that?!?”

As rude as it sounded, it wasn’t out of bounds to ask such a question; on Adam’s toned body were a pair of orange swimming shorts, dark sandals on his feet, and a white t-shirt that was already quite see-through and thin sat on his upper torso. Holding in his hands a pair of baby-blue colored swimming goggles, Adam looked terribly off-putting standing in Hannibal’s bright kitchen. 

Smiling almost apologetically, Adam purred, “We’re going swimming today, Nigel...” When his partner sputtered away in confusion, Adam explained shortly, “Every Saturday, the pool half a block from the apartment offers two hours of free swimming to the public; we go lately because of your bad back and shoulders!” 

Breaking into quite the malicious sneer, Hannibal groused, “My back is fine!”

“Don’t worry, Nigel,” Adam briefly assented, “if we go in the hot water for an hour, all your pain will leave!” 

What pain?! What the hell had the moron Nigel experienced to land him in pain to begin with?

Not in the mood to go fishing for the mystery behind the puzzle, a dark, sinister gleam appeared in Hannibal’s eyes. Regarding the young brunette with a look of deep scrutiny, Hannibal knew he didn’t have much a choice in fighting against Adam’s set plans.

Eyes constantly assessing Adam, the older male allowed the playful, free-spirited youth to lead him out of the apartment. Begrudgingly, Hannibal ‘caved in’ and brought along thin black shorts with himself. He wasn’t going to bother with a shirt, but Adam thankfully didn’t pick on him for that. It was quite shocking, actually. 

They walked quickly to the pool, the building quite grand and magnificent. Once inside, Hannibal found that the indoor pool was larger than he surmised it would be, and not nearly as busy, given the time of day. 

Just as Adam had stated, the entry fee was nonexistent, and they were already rinsing up for the pools. 

Hannibal tried keeping his eyes to himself while Adam-with his freshly soaked body-ran around the change room. His sandals slapped down annoyingly on the white tiles, but that soon flitted down to the bottom of the list of things that were really driving Hannibal quite mad. Though the pools were-for the most part-empty, soon after they’d arrived, plenty of children soon dashed about past them. 

While the steamy air blew through his hair sweetly enough, it did nothing to soothe his nerves or steady his growing headache. And what a headache. Like a beating drum, Hannibal’s brain throbbed when women and their toddlers milled about, the infants already wailing and crying. The children began screaming their heads off as they battled for pool noodles, balls, goggles, and other silly colored swimming gear. 

Chaotic. Wild. Insane. 

The levels of noise became too much to bear. This was now beyond excruciating, and Hannibal knew his patience was being tested. All it would take was only one push...

Still, the former psychiatrist came as ‘prepared’ as possible. 

A few quick seconds in a bathroom stall helped him apply a few band aids to his neck. Effectively patching up the left side where ‘Nigel’s’ tattoo happened to be, he hurried back out into the steamy pool room to find Adam. 

Thankfully, the younger male wasn’t landing himself into any trouble as Hannibal originally worried he may have been. Instead, Adam was preoccupied with ‘testing’ the water of the pool by dipping his toes and fingertips in and out of the water. 

Innocent. Naïve. Silly. Blatantly ignoring Adam and making his way towards the opposite end of the pool, Hannibal narrowly avoided being knocked over as two girls and one teenage boy breezed past him. Laughing their lungs out, the youngsters were obviously playing, and they all dove into the largest, deepest pool together. 

“Nigel!!!”

Glancing up briefly, Hannibal saw Adam pointing at something behind his head. Swiveling around, Hannibal’s eyes were met with a red sign that read out: _Hot Tubs to the left! _

Great.

Shaking his head in displeasure, Hannibal briskly crossed the distance towards the hot tubs. He wasn’t going to wait for Adam to instruct him on where to go. Loud footsteps pattering behind him let him know that Adam was closely lingering by, and Hannibal slightly picked up the pace.

Tapping gently on his back, Adam soon asked the inevitable question Hannibal had seen coming his way for days. “Nigel?! Why do you have a band aid on your neck there?!”

Sighing in exhaustion, Hannibal drawled, “Cut myself when shaving.”

“Oh.” Adam didn’t ask anything else about it, thankfully. 

Reaching the steamy tub immediately due to his brisk speed, the blonde nearly reeled over when he felt how warm the temperatures were...and he hadn’t even entered the pool, yet.

Lovely, lush foliage decorated all sides of the tub. The wide, thick leaves of the artificial plants practically blocking their area from prying eyes. The tub slightly bubbled, the water churning about calmly as it basically invited anyone in. 

Brushing past his shoulders, Adam approached first. Lifting a leg off the floor, he settled into the tub with his right foot planted on the bottom. Then, he turned himself to face Hannibal, still half-way out of the tub. 

The older man’s eyes remained on the mesmerizing water, and he hardly noticed Adam’s hand tugging him by the shoulder forward.

“Sit next to me, Nigel...”

The water circled his form, and the minute his body sank beneath the surface, Hannibal was gone. Surrendering to the warm, sweet water, he allowed it to seduce him into a deep trance. It was beyond relaxing. Wading slowly to the edge, he didn’t even realize he was following the young brunette until Adam nestled his head over to the side and lay it on his chest. 

Hannibal’s eyes were one second gazing and sweeping along the slightly damp mop of dark hair, and then the next, they were closing. 

Fighting against the natural lull, he grunted his struggle out. 

“Relax,” Adam cooed, pushing Hannibal back when he reared up one last time. 

The water sloshed up around his chest and neck, and that proved to be quite problematic. Hazily, Hannibal’s eyelashes fluttered like the tiny wings of a butterfly. 

Blearily. Torpid. Languid.

His mind and body were slowly disconnecting. His nerves alerted him to the fact that it was Adam’s equally warm fingers tenderly delivering massages to his back and shoulders. Over and over, he let himself fall into the nectar-like essence of the pull. Seduced deeply into the touches, his vision grew blurry. 

A shade of red appeared before him, first, and then he slowly saw it fading to black. Ears buzzing and ringing, Hannibal felt himself slipping too quickly. A quagmire not entirely unpleasant in its essence. The last thing he was certain had happened, was that his eyes had tightly sealed shut on their own. Now, his mind truly wandered into a realm existing somewhere between dreaming and awake.

He didn’t even try to stop it.

(--~*~--)

“Good evening, Dr. Lecter.” 

His eyes automatically opened the moment his ears registered that a formal greeting came his way. 

Who was using his proper title?

The first thing he saw was nothing but familiarity. He knew this place...

Dust and old wood lingered and permeated in the air. An old, wooden ladder stood propped against one bottom row of two large shelves. These shelves all held books...

Squinting, his vision briefly glossed over the spines of the dark books. They were books on psychology, medicine, cookery, art, music...red and white striped curtains hung half-open, just as they always had beneath a high ceiling. The floorboards were dark, but rich in color. Various paintings, famous statues, and art pieces were strewn about, each in a rightful, designated place. In the center of the room sat a dark, mahogany sofa, and straight across it was another single-seat sofa. To the far right happened to be a cream-colored chemise, laid there to accommodate the length of the average person lying down. 

The lights above dimmed almost dramatically, causing a hauntingly luminescent glow to snake around the place. 

The soft sensation of a rug beneath his feet also served as a dim reminder...yes, he was very well acquainted with this place...

It was his office.

How many patients had he spoken to in here? How many pieces by famous composers had graced his ears in such a space? How many summers had he spent gazing longingly out the window? How many cold, dark wintery nights had passed in his isolation, here?

He simply couldn’t recall...

The fireplace in the back behind his personal desk remained off and dark. The natural wood was still fresh; the odors crisp and musky. A small desk lamp sat in the right-hand corner of his desk, and as Hannibal gaped away, a single folder rested on the clean surface of the large desk. 

From where he stood, he was able to make out two words printed neatly right in the center of the off-white folder. Approaching curiously, Hannibal didn’t even blink. As he grew closer and closer, he recognized his own cursive, fancy handwriting. 

Stopping right there before chair tucked neatly into the desk, he finally was able to decipher the neat cursive. 

** _Graham, William. _ **

It was his patient file...

Leaping at it like a starved beast, Hannibal hooked his fingers onto the flaps, and he tore the folder open. 

….

It was empty.

Only blankness met his petrified eyes, and as he turned the folder over a few times, the office grew quite dark and warm. 

The yellow, orange, and red flames burst up suddenly; the fireplace had magically come to life. The heat seeped into his back, but it didn’t soothe him. 

Whipping about, Hannibal glared away at the hearth and fire. As he did, the patient folder suddenly disappeared. Practically evaporating into thin air, the surface of the desk was now barren when he studied it. 

Irate beyond comprehension, when Hannibal glanced up and turned himself around completely to begin his quest for the missing folder, he had to involuntarily snap into a locked state.

A tall, dark figure loomed over him quite menacingly. It possessed a lanky, emaciated frame, and its body was completely black...

He knew this creature. It was the wendigo, morphed into its humanoid shape as it’d always appeared to him since he was a little boy. Only this time, the monster was disturbingly and most certainly missing its head. The beast appeared to have been completely decapitated. Its head had been removed completely from above its neck. Only a dark, massive stump of flesh writhed about where its skull should’ve been, clearly moving about as though bewitched by an unknown, unseen source.

It reached out to Hannibal with its razor-sharp talons without warning.


	11. Transcendence

“My dear Dr. Hannibal Lecter.”

Was he dead? 

He didn’t know. Strangely, Hannibal couldn’t even feel anything...if this was how death felt, then perhaps Nigel had been the lucky one, after all. 

It felt like he was floating in warm air...

Though he didn’t want to open his eyes, he did anyway, and rather than floating and being suspended in the air as he surmised he was, the murderous man discovered that he was seated quite comfortably in the warm sofa in his old office. Its thick padding enabled his body to relax even against his own will. Sinking deeply into the sofa seat, he stretched his neck up while blinking in rapid succession to clear his blurry vision. 

Immediately, even though his eyes were still murky, his powerful senses informed him that he wasn’t alone...

“You haven’t lost time, Dr. Lecter.” 

The wood in the fireplace cracked abruptly, and Hannibal inhaled sharply. Bizarrely, his nerves settled as he scented the smoke rising like a bilious fever. 

Staring straight in front of himself, he fixed his vision on the familiar face he’d yearned after for a full year since he was lost in the sea. 

The single word left his lips on its own accord so courageously. 

“Will...” 

A smile greeted him pleasantly, as though it belonged there all along. 

Long, thick eyelashes fluttered shyly, but an air of confidence replaced that shy look in an instant.

Offering him a plaintive nod, Will greeted him. The criminal profiler hadn’t changed, at least not a lot in appearance. It seemed as though not even an hour had passed since the day they met.

Dressed meticulously in grey dress pants, shiny black dress shoes, and a snugly fitting red dress shirt buttoned up all the way to the neckline, Will looked beyond radiant. If there existed a word for better than ‘perfect’, Hannibal would’ve used it to describe Will Graham and his appearance right away. 

His hair was combed and slicked back, giving him quite a clean, professional appeal. Even the slight facial hair he normally wore and kept during the years had been trimmed down to a faint shadow of a stubble. 

Hannibal felt his mouth and throat turning dry immediately. Like a man caught stranded in the fiery desert, he gasped, and then choked on his words like a young child, swallowing them before they suffocated him completely.

Seeing how lovely and serene Will looked, he felt so odd and out of place...was he _still_ dressed in blasted swimming shorts??

Venturing a quick glance down at himself, Hannibal experienced both relief and horror washing over himself at once. Gone were his shorts, much to his relief. He wasn’t shirtless either, thankfully; he was dressed from head to toe in a black three-piece-suit, looking dapper as ever. 

Oh, how he longed for the past. 

Running both hands down along the length of the suit, he enjoyed how smooth and fluid it felt beneath his skin. There was a good, solid consistency, and he only then realized how badly he missed dressing like his former self. 

Why had he ever given it up in the first place?! 

Nervously, he licked his lips, and when he peeked up at Will, he found the younger man to be seated in a body posture much like Hannibal’s ‘therapist’ one. One leg planted firmly on the floor, Will had crossed his leg and draped it over the other thigh, and his hands were folded neatly in his lap. Next to him on the left side of the sofa was a small, circular glass table. On its crystal clear, clean surface sat a box of tissues, elegant, fancy white gloves for a lady, and a small, black and white Chinese fan.

Beaming at him beautifully, Will’s eyes appeared like tiny orbs. Hannibal couldn’t stop gaping and ogling, and he suddenly felt like a lusty, perverted old man deprived of a single fleeting glance and warm touch all his life.

Shaking his head so he could snap out of his odd stupor, he whispered, “This is…this is a dream?”

Will’s eyes burned directly through his soul. “Not quite,” he assented gently, “but this is a new memory palace, Dr. Lecter…you see, you destroyed the other one, I’m sorry to say.”

He knew he had, and he wasn’t too proud of it. Impulsiveness hadn’t always been a burden to him, but now, it seemed it truly took over a large portion of his daily activities, thoughts, desires, and hopes. But what else was a lover scorned and without options to do? He’d been so convinced that he’d never see William again…

Cursing himself for his folly, Hannibal stared quickly around the otherwise empty office. He wasn’t even sure what he was looking for; perhaps he wanted to break free of Will’s serious gaze that burned holes right into the back of his mind. Whatever it was, it instilled a lot of guilt within Hannibal, even though Will hadn’t said a word, still, and he was still smiling fondly.

Softly inhaling and exhaling, Hannibal drawled with caution, “I don’t know what to do.”

“We don’t have much time this session, Dr. Lecter,” Will commented with an air of smarminess about his words.

Catching on to the tone, Hannibal snorted, “I thought I was the doctor here, Will…”

“Perhaps,” Will replied as he lowered his gaze, “the roles are interchangeable, the labels are blurred, and you and I…” A mysterious glint took over his innocent eyes, and it set Hannibal’s heart aflame.

He remembered the exact day he’d been the one responsible for instilling such a look in Will so much that he needed to don this mask. And Hannibal loved it; he loved Will even more now than the first time they’d been introduced. Will was still the way he’d remembered; nothing had been removed or sullied…

As if reading through his thoughts, Will commented, “I’m no longer here, nor am I there; I’m simply made up of fragments of your dreams, your last memories of Will Graham, as well as your deep-seated regret over what you lost in the making.”

Fragile. Persuasive.

Feeling a mild sway of disappointment seeping into his bones, and then muscles, Hannibal was weighed down by negative feelings. They practically flooded all over him, affecting him both in and out, through and through. He felt he was rendered helpless because of them, but there wasn’t much in the way of options available to him…once again. A dreary existence.

Powerless?

Perhaps…

Frowning, he asked, “If you’re not Will Graham, then who are you? What are you? Why have you brought me here?”

So many questions.

The presence that was assuming the form and shape of Will Graham only kept the cold smile plastered onto Will’s face. “I’m a projection, you could say.”

“Projection?” he repeated while his scowl grew deeper and more pronounced, “I don’t see how that could be; Will Graham died and was lost in the sea…” Why had that come out more like a doubtful question than a firm declaration? Wasn’t he confident in his experiences??

Not much…in truth, when Hannibal looked deeply into Will’s eyes, he only saw the wendigo reflected there. It taunted him in the worst way possible; constantly dancing and swaying about while it raised its stick-like arms and shifted its headless body.

Nothing needed to be said; the thing that was supposedly ‘Will’ sat straighter; his neck tilted high. Once their eyes were more at level with one another, the fireplace roared even higher and brighter. Though the flames were for the most part far behind Will, the shadows and faint glows they cast running up and down the walls and ceiling somehow made him seem more demonic. Yes, he even looked paler, too…

“Will?” Hannibal whispered, and as he gazed on at the shell of what the man he still loved now was, he saw the sharp talons of the wendigo appear on either side of Will’s head. Completely unphased, Will only continued smiling as he remained seated in a relaxed position. They could’ve been discussing the weather, practically, especially given how comfortable the criminal profiler appeared to be.

Lips hardly moving, as the wendigo steadily rose on its feet behind Will, a heavy cloud of something Hannibal didn’t want to understand currently began to permeate thickly. Like a storm brewing on the horizon, it loomed, it grew, and it weighed down on Hannibal’s shoulders more than Will’s. The younger man only smiled in his own pleasant way, and as he did, the wendigo reached forward with both arms. Its stick-like limbs creaked and groaned like old branches swaying in a haunted forest.

Will slightly bowed his head, “I’ll see you again soon, Dr. Lecter.”

In shock, Hannibal wheezed as he observed the wendigo wrapping its arms thickly and firmly around Will’s waist. Its headless stump leaned over his right shoulder, and as it let out on deep groan, vines and tendrils swarmed and swooped around Will. They climbed around the bottom of the sofa, first, and then inched their way like little bewitched nails up along Will’s legs. Wrapping around his lower torso, the demonic entity cocooned him almost protectively, and he nestled deeply back against its nurturing comforts.

His eyes peeked out at Hannibal through the few branches of the wendigo’s darkest essence, and the smile on his face never left. As Will was consumed by the wendigo’s power, he slowly disappeared from view, and Hannibal was left all alone once again.

“Will…Will!!! WILL!!”

“Nigel?!”

He was shaken roughly awake.

(--~*~--)

Choking on warm water, Hannibal sputtered as he felt his lungs expanding to the brink of burning. He knew that he was almost drowning, but it’d been caused by his own unmitigated stupidity and carelessness, after all. He’d fallen asleep in the hot tub, and he’d slipped way under.

Fingers grasped the edges of the tub, and he sputtered water out of his mouth as he fought up to the surface. Shooting up past the bubbles, he coughed strongly and pushed his long, silvery blonde hair out of his eyes. They stung a little, but when he rubbed them gently, he found that helped…slightly.

Snarling, he spun about as he choked out viciously, “Adam! What have you done?!”

Strangely, Adam’s chin sat perched along the wild surface of the water, and his arms fumbled down beneath himself. “Nigel!” he whimpered apologetically, “I’m sorry! I dropped my goggles when you fell asleep!!”

“You fell asleep too?!”

It didn’t need to be said, but Adam only whined his confirmation.

Fool!!

Already fed up with the maladroitness plenty for the entire week, Hannibal bent down abruptly. His fingers swiped around the bottom of the tub, and as he shifted about, he felt his toes grazing something rough. It seemed to be made of cheap plastic, too…

Inhaling oxygen deeply, he ducked down beneath the tub without even casting a glance in Adam’s direction. Once his eyes had adjusted to the murky water, he peered intently down by his own feet. As he guessed correctly, Adam’s stupid, childish goggles had fallen and landed there. They were thankfully within reach, and Hannibal dove after them. He saw Adam’s pink feet before his eyes for a moment, and then the youth stepped back.

Hannibal’s fingers clawed and swiped the goggles clean off the bottom of the tub and into his palm. Pushing himself back up past the surface, he suddenly noticed one detail as he swam back up.

Adam wasn’t there in the tub with him anymore…

Once Hannibal poked his head up the surface, he gazed around the hot tub as water dripped down from his drenched bangs and obscured his vision. As suspected, Adam wasn’t in the tub at all. The young man’s abrupt and mysterious disappearance was slightly unsettling, and Hannibal began to worry. However, he assumed he wasn’t worried greatly for Adam’s safety, whereas he was concerned more about the gullible, naïve youth wandering off and talking to the wrong person.

Yes, that was far more unsettling, and it was so much that the inner turmoil Hannibal felt slamming into himself was potent enough to cause him to react immediately. He promptly leapt out of the tub, and as he climbed out hurriedly, his ears soon caught the ringing sounds of a far too familiar voice…

Adam Raki!!

In pure rage, Hannibal’s head spun around in the direction where Adam’s monotone voice was emanating from. Who was he blabbing to, now?! Thankfully, it didn’t take long for Hannibal to spot the young man with dark brown locks. His hair was dripping wetly, and he had been standing with his back facing Hannibal a few feet away from the kids’ swimming pool. But he wasn’t alone…

Fearfully, Hannibal gazed over past Adam, and he saw a relatively younger, taller man with a shaved head standing and staring down at Adam intently. They weren’t physically far apart from one another in terms of distance, and from the angle of observation, Hannibal assumed they were more than friends in terms of intimacy and closeness…

Snarling, he slid himself as gracefully as possible over towards them. Gripping Adam’s left shoulder in a strong hand, he spun the younger man around. For whatever reason, Hannibal knew he didn’t like the mysterious stranger Adam was engaged in a conversation with. Nothing good came from it, and there weren’t any positive vibes wafting in the air. It troubled Hannibal that Adam had simply wandered off and was now chatting with a stranger as if it were the most normal, natural thing in the world.

Ignorant. Childish. Impulsive!

Raging, Hannibal exuded anger from head to toe as he glared first at Adam, and then over at the strange man. He had bright green eyes that were striking and jarring, and he had a small goatee, the hair light brown. His shiny head radiated brightly beneath the lights, and he was well endowed with a lot of muscles…and tattoos. Judging by his glowing skin, Hannibal deemed that he was probably significantly younger than he initially suspected, especially now that he was up close in person.

But what would Adam want in this man? What did this man want from Adam to chat with him in the first place?! Did they know each other?!

Snarling with his teeth jutting out at the younger man, Hannibal spat, “I beg your pardon, but are you two already acquainted with one another?” It was tough to keep the resentment and contempt out of his voice, and he knew he was slowly slipping when his efforts were rewarded with a sneer of satisfaction from the younger, shaven man.

Oh, how he wished he could wipe that damn smirk right off his stupid face…

With utmost pride and zeal, Adam pointed at the strange man. “This is my new friend Craig!!”

“Oh?” Hannibal growled, “and how is it that Craig came to know you then, Adam?” Though he’d addressed Adam, he tilted his head minaciously at ‘Craig’, symbolizing that it was soon time for the man in question to provide an answer. Thankfully, this ‘Craig’ wasn’t as dimwitted as Hannibal originally suspected.

Fixing Hannibal with a smarmy look, Craig’s hand jutted out past Adam, though the knuckles and skin on the back of his limb brushed along Adam’s wet sternum…no doubt on purpose.

“Craig Donavan,” he introduced with a smug grin all over his face, far too cheeky for Hannibal to stand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you…”

Hannibal snorted, “Ah? You know me, then?”

Knowing he was being extra sarcastic, Adam gently stepped on his bare foot with his smaller, warmer one. Momentarily, it shocked Hannibal, and he gazed next to himself. It seemed he’d forgotten Adam was even here to begin with since he’d been so quiet.

Clearing his throat, Adam blushed as he stated, “Craig sometimes sits outside on the bench across the street from where I work, Nigel!” Beaming even brighter as he regaled this to a rageful, spiteful Hannibal, he concluded merrily, “He said ‘hi’ to me a few weeks ago, and he has been a good friend to me when you were gone!!”

Hannibal’s levels of suspicion immediately shot through the roof upon hearing all this. From what he knew already, Adam Raki wasn’t a liar, not in the slightest. The boy couldn’t ever lie to save his life, but other people certainly _could_. This ‘Craig Donavan’, if that was even really his given name and identity, surely could fabricate a whole storybook of lies and excuses to feed Adam with, and the youth would gobble them all down like it were a grand dessert. From what Hannibal gathered, Craig had known Adam for some time, and had possibly been stalking him…even more troubling, he had confirmation now that Adam never refused to openly share information regarding Nigel Ibanescu.

Just _how much _had Adam revealed?!

Paling, Hannibal barely nodded as he spat coldly in chopped breaths, “I see…and I suppose Adam here was _more_ than generous with introductions before I myself had the chance and the honor, I presume?”

At once, both Adam and Craig narrowed their eyes at him. Hannibal knew why, however; he wasn’t ‘Nigel’; he was Dr. Lecter once more.

Shaking himself out of that mind frame, he cleared his throat and instead spat out incredulously, “What the hell do you do for a living anyway, Craig?”

With a slight roll of his icy blue eyes, Craig smoothly replied, “I’m a bouncer for a club right across where your boy works.”

Clasping his hands together, Adam cried sharply, “Craig’s pretty cool!! He comes here a lot to exercise and keep in shape for his job!!”

Pondering it quickly, Hannibal recalled that there was in fact a club called ‘_JenderBent_’ near the toy company Adam worked for. So it appeared that Craig hadn’t lied to Adam, then? Unsure, Hannibal didn’t want to question it, yet, but he knew he was still somewhat suspicious of this person. Something lingered behind Craig’s eyes that Hannibal didn’t like, and he recognized it as a shadow of the very demon that lurked in the depths of his own convoluted mind.

Gazing at Craig now as he hung behind Adam, Hannibal could practically witness the way the darkness stirred and churned within the man’s heart and lungs. His entire upper torso burned with the oozing black substance, and like a monster borne of tar and oil, he reveled in the stuff. It was his very essence; his sustenance, and the beast would only be satisfied once it inflicted others with its power.

Just like him…

Frowning the moment he inhaled and practically scented the potent stench of death, toxic fumes, as well as the alpha scent of a dominant predator seeking prey, Hannibal was more than certain that this hot-blooded young monster was only seeking out Adam for the purposes of conquering a conquest. That was Adam’s only role in this deadly dance, and for some reason, Hannibal found he hated that someone else had beaten him in his games.

He detested being mocked and being made a fool of. Yes, he decided immediately that he absolutely despised Craig Donavan, and now, the best thing to do was to get as far away from him as possible. He needed to regroup with his musings, isolate Adam so he could manipulate him further, and stay ahead of the other predator in any way possible. Only then would he be able to remain in control, wielding his psychological powers, and exhibiting the height of his possessive prowess.

Slowly, Craig held out a hand and tapped Adam on the shoulder a few times. “I can see you guys are a bit busy,” he pointed out foolishly, in Hannibal’s opinion, “will you have lunch with me tomorrow?” Beaming in a phony manner, he sighed, “I’d love the company, Adam…”

Snatching up the goggles even tighter to the point of breaking them, Hannibal’s shoulders tightened. Though he reminded himself not to betray his emotions and openly display them before Craig, he nodded curtly and wrapped a long arm about Adam’s slender waist.

Gaping down, Adam cried in joy, “Nigel! You found my goggles!!”

“Have a good day, Craig,” he spat in the other man’s way, turning swiftly and purposefully walking the long way around the pools back towards the change room and showers. Adam kept muttering and struggling, but that didn’t anger Hannibal even a tenth of how badly Craig’s gaze upon them boiled his blood.

Insufferable man.


	12. A Price for Peace

“Adam, didn’t your parents ever teach or warn you about the infinite dangers speaking with and befriending strangers can bring?”

They were now in Adam’s pristine, organized apartment, with the young brunette sitting and watching his programs on space exploration, while Hannibal stood in the bathroom, desiring nothing aside from covering up the barren left side of his neck. He’d been searching through Adam’s cupboards and medicine cabinet; he just knew there had to be a first aid kit here somewhere…

Adam munched on a small red apple, dabbing at his lips with a clean napkin between bites. He hardly blinked as he shouted back over his shoulder, voice reaching down the hall, “My mother taught me many great things, Nigel! Don’t worry!!”

Raking his eyes upward, Hannibal sighed gruffly, “Well, regardless, I think you need to stay as far away from Craig as possible.” He bent to open one of the tiny cupboard doors, the squeak barely audible over Adam’s crisp laughter ringing up into the air from the den.

For a moment, Hannibal scowled, and he considered running out of the bathroom towards Adam so he could wrap a large, thick hand around his neck and slowly suffocate him. That, or perhaps he would do the young man a favor by breaking his hyoid bone.

Oh, to put a creature suffering out of its misery was such a divine thing…

However, rather than doing just that, Hannibal instead continued searching for the band aids. He rifled through extra hair spray, hair gel, razors, deodorant, soap, hand and facial towels, Kleenex boxes, toilet paper, toilet bowl cleaner, and a few packages of sanitary wipes.

No, nothing useful here in the slightest.

“Nigel,” Adam’s voice slammed into his auditory senses, making the former psychiatrist grimace painfully.

Checking that the bathroom door was almost completely closed, Hannibal then called back, “What the hell do you want, now?! I’m busy!!” His nerves were on edge as he stood back up and yanked on the medicine cabinet door above the sink. His greedy fingers searched through toothpaste still not yet opened, though it was stacked to the brim inside on a shelf. Adam had even taken time to color coordinate and organize the brands…

Classy.

“Nigel, why do you hate Craig?” Adam asked the inevitable question Hannibal dreaded most. It served as a way to nitpick, no doubt, and Hannibal knew he couldn’t skirt around it; the topic genuinely peeved him. Now that Adam had opened the door for a harangue, he was going to get one.

And why not? It would waste time so he could resume searching.

Pushing his bangs out of his eyes when they curtained down annoyingly, Hannibal began slowly, “Well, it’s because I don’t know a damn thing about him, first of all…” Voice trailing for a mysterious, dramatic appeal, he pushed past more toothpaste, mouthwash, and scissors.

“…Yet he seems to know a lot about me…that makes me feel uncomfortable.”

Adam lowered the volume of his show, and Hannibal seized up for a moment. He trained his ears on the door, and then past the hall, but he couldn’t trace any movement.

Clearing his throat, he continued, “We don’t even know Craig’s true intentions, right? So until I do, anyway, I’m not going to like him at all.” He only came up with this portion of his answer due to the nature of the ‘business’ Nigel used to engage in, if one could even label it that way. He naturally assumed that Nigel had ranted to Adam often about watching his back, being extra cautious around new faces, and he’d been ever so secretive about their relationship especially.

…At least, he _hoped_ Nigel had the brains to do that, but there was no guarantee, given how stupid and reckless Nigel had been at times. In fact, Hannibal was wondering whether Nigel’s big mouth was what had actually landed him in trouble and gotten him killed.

Suddenly, his brain wandered in an odd direction.

What if it’d been ‘Craig’ who’d been responsible for whatever had happened to Nigel?? Could it be possible at all? Well, he didn’t trust Craig, he was certain he didn’t like him, and there was something far more menacing and ominous about the man that Hannibal sniffed out almost immediately. But did all those things contribute to the man being a murderer?

Unfortunately, not really…not until he had substantial information and evidence. Until then, anything was sadly up for ‘debate’ in his crazed, heated mind, but Hannibal shred those thoughts and stored whatever bits were left in a box. That box had to be tossed and cast away in pure darkness, soon…

When he’d searched the shelves of the small medicine cabinet for what felt like the tenth time already, he’d been so tempted to just shout out at Adam where he kept the infernal band aids. Thankfully, the cards of ‘luck’ were in his hand, and the moment he peered inside deeper, he gazed upon a small box of band aids.

Releasing a content sigh, Hannibal gripped the package. Steadying it carefully, his long fingers snaked about inside the small package, already fishing around for a solitary band aid. When he found on, he yanked it out of the box, tore open the wrap, the seal, and then draped it over the left side of his neck.

Something clattered after he’d moved the band aid box, and initially, it frightened him. It sounded akin to a mouse moving about on the shelves of the cabinet, but Hannibal knew it wasn’t when another small rectangular package toppled down from the shelf and down into the sink below. Gazing upon it, Hannibal felt a most disturbed expression working its way onto his face when his eyes read the label on the package.

_Durex Condoms, Extra Lubricated _

Holding it up reluctantly only for the purposes of putting it back in its rightful place, with his back turned towards the door, he didn’t hear any sounds coming from outside in the den…

…..

Arms suddenly wrapped around his own, and Hannibal felt every strand of hair on his body rising drastically; an instinctive response to another person’s body heat seeping into his own. Eyes wide, Hannibal felt his mouth turning dry, and he stood frozen in position as he heard a tiny sigh emanating directly from behind himself.

“Adam?”

The young man hummed, and as he peered at Hannibal, he let out a childishly innocent giggle that seemed to portray how amused he really was.

Face slightly pink, Hannibal felt Adam’s weight shifting, and he didn’t require the use of the mirror to determine that Adam was trying to see whatever it was ‘Nigel’ was holding onto so desperately.

With a coo, Adam lightly asked, “Nigel, why don’t you come join me for Mac and Cheese?”

Trembling slightly, Hannibal retorted, “No thank you, I’m not hungry, Adam…”

Damn his timing! Damn this brat!! He just _had_ to walk in right _now_??? Once Adam saw the condoms, that would be the end of it!!

As Hannibal tried being discreet and stealthy with his disposal of the condoms, Adam shifted, and he softly asked, “Nigel, what’re you doing?”

He caught the sight of a small garbage can by the toilet, but it’d been leaning at such a bad angle, that Hannibal wouldn’t be able to toss it into the can without being noticed. And besides, the garbage can was otherwise empty, and thus, it would create a sound of impact once the package fell…

Shit.

“Nigel?” Adam purred at his neck, “You’re holding something! Can I see it?”

Hannibal coughed timorously, “Uhh, no, Adam…it’s nothing that will interest you!”

This of course reeled Adam in like a fish seduced by a juicy worm dangling from a sharp, deadly hook. Licking his lips, he whispered in a warm puff of air aimed for Hannibal’s back, “But you’re holding it right there, Nigel!! You can’t lie to me!”

“Darling, it’s nothing; leave it!”

His mind warned him to toss it now, but Adam was far too quick. Moving at an almost inhuman burst of speed, he moved to the side, and he stared at the package. Hannibal tucked it against his chest, and with a deep roar, he turned and made it so that his back faced Adam.

Adam huffed, “Nigel, let me see.”

“Go away!!”

“I want to see!!”

“Can’t you see I’m busy?!”

Lunging without warning, Adam leapt at Hannibal. His forehead knocked into Hannibal’s shoulder. Bone met bone, and Hannibal gasped from the pain that shot up along the length of his shoulder. The package was released slightly, and Adam took advantage of the momentarily stunned Dr. Lecter. Fingers swiped the package hanging in Hannibal’s hands, and Adam’s jaw dropped.

As the reddish-pinkish hue returned to his cheeks, his eyes glowed over with emotions as he crooned merrily, “Aww, Nigel!! Do you want to make love tonight?”

…..

Hannibal could’ve sworn he felt his stomach bottoming out and crashing down to his knees. It felt even worse than falling sick with a flu bug, and he knew he was turning paler and paler by the minute while Adam toyed with the package and swung himself about the tiny bathroom. His eyes were glazed over with lust, and it sent pure shivers up and down Hannibal’s spine.

Holding up a hand, he gingerly asked, “May I have the box, Adam?”

Ceasing his motions, Adam’s eyebrows arched upward. “Why?”

Faltering for a moment, Hannibal quickly pushed out, “Err, I think those are expired, darling…”

At once, Adam turned the package over, and Hannibal shrank considerably. They now _both_ knew that wasn’t true at all, and Adam especially seemed peeved beyond comprehension.

With an undignified snort emitted, he leaned against the sink as he hissed, “They’re still okay, Nigel! You got them from the cabinet, and you were here for a long time…that must mean you want them for a reason!”

Desperately yearning to avoid the topic of sex for now, Hannibal quickly supplied without thinking, “I w-was just going to use them on myself!!!”

Upon being met with the look Adam currently sported on his handsome face, Dr. Lecter cringed. Adam looked furious-no, he looked like he was going to explode. He trembled for a moment, and then steam practically rose off the top of his head and out of his ears, which were also a fine shade of deep pink.

Clearing his throat after an awkward minute spent in pure silence, he straightened his body posture and glared away at Hannibal. The older male dropped his gaze from meeting Adam’s eyes for a split second, all the way down to the box. It looked like Adam was going to either rip it in half, or smash it to bits.

Not good. Perhaps he should’ve thought of his words properly.

Still shaking in his own growing fury, Adam fought to remain calm. Hannibal had to admire that, and he felt he honestly did without pandering in a phony way to Adam’s efforts. The young man actually was trying, and it was the effort that counted to Hannibal, anyway. At least he wasn’t exploding like a temperamental brat, and Hannibal was reduced to his own silence while he thought of just tearing the box out of Adam’s hands.

Taking a step closer to Hannibal, Adam unwittingly was making the other man’s job a lot easier…

Sniffing as he cast his spiteful eyes down at the floor, he inquired curtly, “Nigel, do you mean you’re going to be mast—”

Hannibal didn’t waste time. He dove for the box, and his fingers clutched it perfectly. Adam fought back as though he’d been fighting for his life. He leapt up on his toes right when Hannibal held the condoms up above his head. With his right arm swinging towards the ceiling, Adam cut through the air, and he made sure his hand knocked into the condom package. It sailed towards himself for a moment, and with both men tilting their heads back while their mouths hung open in awe and suspense, time seemed to slow down significantly.

The package was slowly falling…falling down, right towards Adam again…

Quickly, Hannibal aimed a deft kick up into the air, and his knee bumped into the condom package. At once, the package flew backwards through the air again, and this time, as both Hannibal and Adam watched on in horror, the condoms flew right into the open toilet bowl. With a loud ‘splash’, the package weighed down into the water, bobbing up along the surface for a moment, as if taunting Adam more than anyone else.

Hannibal swallowed with a tiny gulp, and then he saw Adam pointing at the toilet from his peripheral vision.

“Don’t flush the—”

“Like fuck I’m not!!!”

“NIGEL!!!”

Hand slamming down on the handle of the toilet to flush it, Hannibal moved away with caution as the toilet worked to swish and slosh the water around the condom package. It swirled about, churning over and over a few times before it was sucked deeply into the center of the bowl. The strong quagmire-like pull of the toilet seemed to push the package down for a moment, but then the toilet made a funny noise.

Adam wheezed, “What’s going on?!”

Suddenly, the water rose steadily, and Hannibal hissed in a warning, “It won’t fit to go down the toilet! Move!!”

Adam ran screaming in loud terror once the water rose beyond the rim of the bowl. It coated the seat, now, and it was steadily dripping and drizzling over the edge right down to the clean tiles. Only when the toilet water inched towards Hannibal like some aquatic spell did Hannibal turn away from the bathroom in a hurry.

He forgot to close the door after himself, unfortunately.

(--~*~--)

Hannibal reached for the glass of red wine he’d helped himself to, only to have it unceremoniously snatched clean out of his hand. Glaring away after it, his irksome eyes traced the way the glass drew upwards into the air, and right above Adam’s head. The young man was scowling incessantly at Hannibal’s sternum, and he seemed about ready to fling the glass of expensive wine across the room in one go.

Hannibal held up a hand, trying to instill a level of calm when he heard and saw how deeply Adam’s labored breaths came in and out of his nose. His chest heaved from it all, and he wasn’t getting any better in the heavy blanket of silence that was practically smothering them both.

Perhaps words would help in such a scenario…

Venturing forth, Hannibal pursed his lips, then wet them with the tip of his tongue. Relying on the magic of his verbal talents, he paused before stating, “I’m sorry about the state your bathroom’s currently in, Adam, but the wine relaxes me, which is something I need right now…”

If he could understand…

Judging by the look drawn over Adam’s heated face, Hannibal quickly came to the conclusion that no, Adam didn’t understand at all. Why did he even bother assuming and pretending Adam would?

Careless. Insipid.

Wielding the glass of wine as though it were some dangerous weapon, Adam fired angrily, “Sorry isn’t going to fix things, Nigel!!” Pointing back over his shoulder, he sniped, “How can you sit here and drink your dumb alcohol when my bathroom’s like _that_?!?”

Peeking almost like a child over towards the destruction, Hannibal winced. The water was _still_ flowing profusely. Not even the silly rags and stained cloths Hannibal had forced and wedged beneath the door helped keep the filthy sewage and toilet water at bay, much to the ex-psychiatrist’s dismay.

Gazing up at Adam when he’d had his fill of looking at the mess, he meekly offered, “At least I put in an effort?”

Adam paused, and then his eyelids twitched. Like a ticking time bomb, Adam lowered the glass of wine, and then slammed it down over the coffee table. As expected, the fancy glass shattered into more than a dozen deadly, sharp shards. The contents within the container exploded, drenching the table, the carpet, and the floorboards. Among it all, Adam still stood his ground, seething with rage.

Hannibal was truly shocked the youngster hadn’t uttered a word, yet.

Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, he mused, “I should clean that, and I will…eventually…”

“Forget it,” Adam spat, finally moving back. “I’m going to call Harlan; he’ll know what to do.” As he announced this, Hannibal’s ears perked up, and he stood up slowly before the shorter man.

Approaching cautiously, he wheezed, “Harlan? What does he have to do with the toilet?!”

Not even whirling around as he spoke, Adam cried shortly, “He used to be a plumber before, Nigel! Why’re you acting so weird again?!”

Weird?! Well, that was given due to the nature of the game, but Hannibal was beginning to grow weary of how sharp-witted Adam was. It appeared that the powers of his memory never failed, even though Nigel may have said something fleeting and off the cuff to him a long time ago.

Throwing his hands in the air, Hannibal followed Adam into the kitchen. He didn’t even comprehend why he’d done it, but all he knew was that his feet and body were trailing closely behind Adam.

Adam stopped near the fridge, but he didn’t open its door or look for food and beverage otherwise. It seemed he was more interested in creating some distance between them both, and while Hannibal would’ve been more than glad to provide that for him, he just couldn’t right now for the time being when Adam seemed to be alert and highly suspicious of his conduct and line of inquiry.

What was he supposed to know, now?? When would these infernal games come to an end?!

Calmly, Hannibal inched towards Adam, slowly pushing and trapping the smaller male between his own body and the kitchen counter. Adam moved away one step at a time, eyes submissively down on the floor as he drew himself back more and more until there wasn’t any more room for him to go.

He was now definitely stuck, and right where Hannibal wanted him.

Now that their bodies practically swapped heat, Hannibal momentarily delighted in the fact that his presence and close proximity alone wielded enough potency that managed to reduce Adam to a bumbling, stuttering mess. Now, he was quiet, just as Hannibal liked him the most. Perhaps he should’ve been doing this often…yes, resorting to such methods weren’t all that calamitous, it appeared.

Smiling from ear to ear as he tasted his prize lingering on the horizon, Hannibal’s eyes changed color as he slipped past his gentlemanly demeanor and instead fell prey to his darker proclivities. The beast within surged above all else, drowning out the socially acceptable and tolerant nature he’d donned as a mask just to give off the impression that he wasn’t a thing borne from darkness and hatred alone.

Adam swallowed nervously, but he still had yet to utter a single word.

Head tilting and craning down, Hannibal purred softly, “So, our good friend Harlan worked as a plumber before, and I’m assuming you’ve told me prior to my leave for Bucharest? Hmm?” As he hummed, he saw how his deep vibrations danced along Adam’s skin, bewitching it strikingly to the point where his hair strands stood up on command.

Beautiful. Magnificent.

He longed for more.

Closing the last of the gap that separated their bodies, Hannibal planted his hands firmly on the counter behind Adam. His large hands slammed down on either side of Adam’s body, and the young male winced, and then shivered when Hannibal gazed into his eyes.

“Umm, Nigel?”

“I didn’t say you could speak, did I, Adam?” His growls again woke and stirred something up within Adam’s core, and he reacted to it by emitting a soft moan.

Chin and jaw quivering, he tried composing himself by draping the back of a hand over his mouth. While it’d effectively trapped and sealed off any other potentially embarrassing sound, Hannibal didn’t appear to appreciate it. His job and his entire purpose was chicanery, hiding away, holding back, composing himself, and cutting things out before someone could learn about his world. Never had he desired for another living being to imitate that, and he resented Adam for doing such.

Pushing down on his hand firmly, Hannibal sternly groused, “Don’t hold back; let me hear you…”

“Wh-why…it’s embarrassing!” Adam rasped, trying to conceal both his face and his voice again.

This was beyond the pale for Hannibal, and he showed that he wasn’t going to tolerate it by slapping Adam’s hands away. “I didn’t give you permission to shy away from me, Adam, so don’t do it again.”

His warnings were well regarded, and Adam heeded his words well enough. Hands fell down at his sides, though he trembled like a lost little lamb. Such a sight for Hannibal’s eyes. To see someone who resembled Will Graham-his beloved, dear Will-in so many ways trembling and shaking in desperation and yearning for him boiled Hannibal’s blood in all the right ways. His passion pooled deeply down in his stomach, first, and then it found its natural way down even further. Like fire, it spread, but namely in one specific place, targeting one specific organ…

His cock…

“Nigel?”

Adam’s voice couldn’t even stop him, now, and for an unknown-perhaps mystical reason-he didn’t wish to be stopped. If anyone or anything stopped him and got in the middle of this, now, he was going to crumble and dive down into the depths of hell if he had to in order to seek his revenge. As vengeful as he was when it came to his own personal interests and affairs, that all paled in comparison to right now.

To have Adam reduced to jelly, a blob of his former fleshy self was worth all the suffering and indignity in the world, and Hannibal was willing to put himself through that torture over and over again for his reward.

Eternal salvation…

His eyelids slowly fluttered shut at the same moment Adam’s did. They were further drawn into each other, and because of the silent-yet delectable serenade-Hannibal craned his neck down further to almost slant his mouth over Adam’s.

Their pink lips were inches apart, when suddenly, seemingly out of thin air, a cough emerged.

“Err, Nigel? Adam?”

At once, both men spun around to face their guest. Thankfully, it was only Harlan.

The man was as startled as could be humanly possible. He avoided meeting their eyes, more than likely only because he’d stumbled upon them at a most awkward moment.

…And just what had been about to occur?!

Gaping at Adam, who was rubbing his cheeks in mild irritation while fidgeting about, Hannibal pushed his hair back. Though it was more or less a means of hiding back his own growing mortification, Hannibal appeared calm, though significantly miffed at being interrupted.

His anger still begged the question as to _why_ he even faced a single shred of disappointment to begin with. It’s not like Adam Raki was Will Graham! They were two completely separate entities, and two very, _very _different men. To even _dare_ to entertain such a foolish notion was an empty pursuit by a long shot, and it was quite ignorant.

….

No, it was an insult to Will Graham, and anything he morphed into before he passed on. Hannibal wasn’t going to tolerate that, and he immediately extricated himself from the situation before an opportunity for further insults and mortification could bloom.

Glaring at Harlan as though he were a true menace, Hannibal beat the heat off his cheeks and neck by covering the areas in a false move of massaging them. Clearing his throat, he snapped moodily, “Hello again, what do you want?”

Harlan held a large bag in his right hand, and in the left dangled a toolbox. He set the rusted, old toolbox down before scratching his head and staring at everything in the apartment save for Hannibal and Adam.

“Nigel, sh-should I return maybe in an hour or so?”

Eyes narrowing dangerously, Hannibal asked, “Whatever for?”

When Harlan coughed again, the answer slammed into Hannibal’s mind like a hammer. Naturally, the older man had assumed that ‘Nigel’ and his lover Adam were about to engage in sexual acts of intimacy. While he couldn’t blame the man for coming to this conclusion, the speculation wasn’t well received, nor did Hannibal appreciate the crudeness at his expense.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t gut this man like a pig for feasting. He was here to help, and help, he should have.

Stepping aside, Hannibal flitted away from Adam and made his way towards the bathroom, which was constantly flowing with water. Kicking at the drenched cloths wedged crudely beneath the door, he growled, “The damage is here.”

Harlan peeked down, and he nodded once as he gathered his toolbox. Propping open the lid, he ground out, “So, how did this exactly come to happen, Nigel?”

Hannibal could only turn and glare over his shoulder at Adam. The look he was met with wasn’t exactly welcoming or nice, and it was the sole reason why he didn’t bother arguing.

“Can you fix the toilet, or not?” He knew he was resorting to rudeness himself, but he was growing weary of the tiny holes in the back of his head and neck Adam’s eyes were burning. It was too much to bear, and it even made his skin itch.

Drawing his hand back, he began scratching away at random spots behind his neck while eyeing the water slowly flooding forth out of the bathroom when Harlan opened the door.

As the other male studied and assessed the horrific scene, he let out a long, melodramatic sigh while he tugged his toolbox closer to himself until it was propped against his side.

“I can fix it, Nigel,” he began, and then shook his head while muttering softly, “the things Adam gets himself into when he’s around you…I’ll never understand.”

Seething, Hannibal spun on his heels and just breezed down the hall. Making his way for his own apartment not too far away, he was shocked that Adam hadn’t bothered calling after him, chasing him down, crying, begging, and pleading for him to stop.

Later, when Hannibal settled back in the minor comforts of his cheap apartment, he discovered a truly horrific thing that had been rooted in the center of his mind the entire time he made the journey back to his own apartment. As riveting and as terrifying as it was in its own right, it existed there among the rest of his thoughts as Will and Abigail existed somewhere in the space of whatever was left of his cold heart.

….

Hannibal found he actually wanted Adam to follow him.


	13. Rotten to the Core

“Do you think someone can easily obsess over another human being easily?”

….

“Would…would it seem unstable to do so? To feel in such a way…?”

….

The sun was slowly setting outside, and it birthed the coming of many peculiar, swift, sun-kissed shadows to litter and dance along every inch of his office. Impeccable as always, Hannibal sat back in his sofa to admire the purple, pink, red, orange, and yellow hues gliding along his bookcases, shelves, statues, paintings, murals, and his grand piano propped against a wall. Everything was quite magnificent here as always.

Tucking a crystal clear, white tissue into his left pocket in the overcoat of his black suit, he smirked as he tilted his head at his guest sitting before himself. After a few moments of awe-struck gazing into each other’s eyes, Will Graham stood and paced back towards the grand piano.

Eyes tracing every move, every feature of the younger, smaller male, Hannibal reeled in rapture and delight. The good doctor didn’t think that he’d be visiting his beloved soon again, but this was a most delightful surprise.

Will played around with a few random keys at first, and then he drew out the piano stool before sitting himself down on the soft dark seats. He didn’t even so much as roll up the sleeves of his white dress shirt, but the smile he bestowed on his handsome face remained more than a wonderful companion.

Folding his hands in his lap, Hannibal smiled on while Will began the tune of _Go Tell Aunt Rhody_. “Am I to be graced by the sounds of songs that once visited me in my childhood so vastly, Will?” Amused to the highest extent, Hannibal propped a hand beneath his chin, bunching it up into a fist while he listened to Will’s musical composition.

As the other man replayed _Go Tell Aunt Rhody_, the piece sounded haunting and more and more off tune as time went by. Hardly glancing over his shoulder, his voice rose into the air pleasantly in contrast to the music.

“These songs remind me too well of my childhood…of youth, of family…”

Resisting the urge to shudder at the sound of the word most foreign to his ears and sensibilities, Hannibal asked, “What do you mean? Have you no family, Will?”

Chuckling, Will replied, “You were my family, once. So were my dogs, before you.”

“And after me?”

Simultaneously, they both breathed, “Abigail…”

The music softened, and Will muttered, “Moderato, grave…” The Italian rolled off his tongue pleasantly, and Hannibal involuntarily shivered.

Rapturous delight…

“Abigail Hobbs; the daughter we had, and yet never held onto,” came Will’s anguished conclusion. His fingers remained on the final note, but then he pressed down on the pedals of the piano, allowing the remnants of the music to float almost hauntingly into the air.

Outside, a few ravens flew by the windows, and the wind appeared to be picking up in speed and potent gusts. It almost beat and bashed against the old glass, as though punishing it in whatever way possible; a facsimile for Will’s contempt and anguish.

Frowning, Hannibal whispered, “You find me at fault for Abigail’s fate.”

Not even hesitating, Will commented soundly, “Yes; you wielded the blade, and you made the final cut. It was all your doing.”

Eyes flashing dangerously in a silent warning, Hannibal snapped as his fingers curled against the armrests. “Are you forgetting that you crafted the weapon yourself and used it on me, first?” When their eyes met in a familiar, suspicious glare, Hannibal pressed on. “Oh yes,” he purred, though more to keep his anger under control, “_you_ betrayed me and plunged the knife in deeper, William…”

Knowing he’d been referring to the insurmountable times Will tried selling him to Jack Crawford, out of some misbegotten sense of ‘loyalty’ to the law and justice, the other male smiled a cold fragment of a broken smile that seemed to ghost along the darkness and shadows.

“Do you still long for a family, Dr. Lecter?” Teasingly, almost, the younger man’s eyes turned dark. Soon, dark bags and circles appeared beneath his eyeballs, and his face seemed so sunken in…

Emaciated…

The floorboards groaned and creaked, and a stray, broken tree branch smacked repeatedly against the window.

_Tap, tap, tap…_

Chin quivering more than he could tolerate, Hannibal turned his face away from Will’s stern gaze. “I don’t need your scorn right now, Will,” he warned in a growl befitting a monster while the creaking and groaning grew in intensity and volume.

It almost appeared as though his office were an ancient being that’d been rudely awakened from its stupor after decades of lying in a peaceful, dormant rest.

As Hannibal blinked once quickly, he heard Will’s voice trailing somewhere behind his head. Along the walls, floor, and ceiling happened to be the cast shadows of antlers. The antlers were beyond dark, even for shadows. They twisted and bent into odd shapes, almost too talon-like for Hannibal’s tastes. They would probably reach out for him and impale him right on their sharp, pointy ends…

Just as he had once done to so many victims…just like the Minnesota Shrike…

“Garret Jacob Hobbs,” Will drawled, purposefully toying with the name when he knew how much Hannibal didn’t want to hear it. “What do we have in common with him?”

The wind howled like a starved beast demanding its meal, and crows ceased cawing, perhaps out of fear. The antlers soon cast their shadowy hues all over Will’s face, and his white dress shirt turned grimy and unclean. Soil stains and marks trekked up and down along its front and back, the antlers purposefully jabbing their shadowy-yet jagged-horns into his heart.

“Abigail…Abigail Hobbs…”

Refusing to stand up, Hannibal cried, “Would you have sacrificed everything for me, Will? Just as I would have sacrificed it all for you?!” He was aware of the rising bile in his throat, and the increase in urgency and desperation in his tone. He couldn’t help it, and he didn’t wish to. Perhaps Will would listen and understand, perhaps he wouldn’t.

It was worth it to venture into the realm of the unknown. What else did he have to lose when he opened his eyes and woke up? Dreams and nightmares were one and the same, after all; gone in a fleeting moment, difficult to remember in the waking world, and ethereal if they chose to hauntingly linger in semblances of symbols left behind in the mind’s eye.

The silence practically shook the floors and windows, but Hannibal allowed it to persist while the pensive man sat and pondered about what ‘might have been’, ‘what could have been’, and why they’d lost it all.

Fingers and fists clenched tightly, he rasped weakly, “I was willing to even exact your revenge on both Alana and Margot; I would’ve abducted their child for you, and I would have willingly helped you raise it.”

_Tap, tap, tap…_

Instead of a daughter, they could’ve had a son…

“A son.”

A hand clamped down on Hannibal’s shoulder at once, and when the psychiatrist stared up, he saw the hand there slowly shifting. The skin turned from alabaster to tar-colored in seconds. Smooth and shiny in appearance, the creature there still kept Will’s visage…only for a moment. Antlers sprouted and rose from the top of its skull, and a gruesome, bastardized version of a smirk ghosted its face.

“Yes,” the wendigo purred as it used Will like a puppet, speaking through him clearly.

“I’d have liked a son…”

Hannibal peered down at the claws gently toying with the fabric of his suit. Any second now, he knew the horrid monster would consume him and transport him out of here as it always had. Soon, he knew he had to say his painful goodbyes to Will.

Bowing his head in a display of worship, almost, he whispered breathlessly, “Until we find ourselves here again, my dear Will.”

(--~*~--)

Hannibal had the worst headache of the month. Usually, he considered himself lucky enough not to be too prone to the damn things, but for some bizarre reason, he’d been suffering through one from the moment he’d roused himself from his dream.

Well…if one could consider it a dream. It truly seemed more like a nightmare, and to Hannibal, the only saving grace of it had been Will Graham. Although it was quite obvious that the entity in Hannibal’s nightmares had only taken the form of Will Graham, it wasn’t actually Will he often communicated with. Perhaps it resembled him at times, spoke like him, moved about like him, adopted his mannerisms, and even smiled like Will often had, though Hannibal wasn’t going to stand by and delude himself into thinking it was Will. His love was gone, and he wasn’t ever going to return. That was a harsh fact of reality, and as cold as it was, akin to being doused in ice-water, Hannibal felt that it was better to ‘wake up’, psychologically, emotionally, and spiritually rather than sleeping away in his land of delusions. Though comforting and welcoming in theory alone, it never transcended into practicality and helped him realistically. Yes, it hurt to receive the ‘shock’ of the cold water all over his sensitive, warm skin, but after it traveled all across his body, he knew he would be awake, and everything would be alright…

…Or so he thought, anyway.

It wasn’t important to ponder and ruminate on that all day-err, night, especially when he had a blasted headache yet again. And it was night, strangely. How it came to be that time passed so quickly from mid-afternoon to night when Hannibal could’ve sworn he’d only dozed off for half an hour was unbecoming. Beyond odd and uncanny, he was brought again back to when Will disclosed to him that he’d been losing time…of course, Hannibal dedicated a helping hand back then during that situation, but who was helping him now?

Not a soul. He had to rely on himself…as usual.

Content with that for the time being seeing as he had other ‘pressing’ matters ahead of himself, Hannibal stumbled out of his bed, and padded into the bathroom. Needing to chase after a glance at his visage and appearance proved to be a big mistake. The moment the lights shone down on him, and the very second he stood before the mirror, he nearly wanted to vomit profusely.

He’d been covered in facial fuzz longer than he’d ever had in his life. Even in the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane, he’d been allowed to have regular shaves, though he’d been tied and held down while another man shaved his face for him. That wasn’t too bad, now that Hannibal thought of it. However, it was quite obvious now in the last few weeks that he’d been neglecting personal hygiene and upkeep. This truly was unusual and unbecoming for him, and Hannibal wanted to spit many, many times at his own reflection. It was disgusting. His facial hair wasn’t blonde in the same shade as it had been when he was younger. Now, majority of it was white, and it made him appear far older than he was.

Abhorrent. Cruel.

His hair sported and held enough silvery wisps and tendrils, though they weren’t overly populating his scalp…yet. Time hadn’t been too good to him, but he supposed he could cough up a mimic of ‘gratitude’…perhaps in vain.

Flashing his teeth, he grunted in putrid disgust when he noticed that his teeth were even mildly yellow and stained. He held the color of teeth normally reserved for a chain-smoker, and this further dedicated to his already growing upset. As he remained standing vigilant before the icy, smooth surface of the mirror, Hannibal was forced to come to terms with a fact that remained as undiluted as crystal clear water running down a majestic waterfall. As chilling as this fact was, there was no escaping it. It was far too unfortunate, but that was the way it happened to be.

Hannibal looked too much like Nigel. This fact kept burdening him with its presence importunately, like an unwanted guest in the house. It drove him to the brink of insanity, and for a brief moment, he considered slicing his own face off to remold it into another person’s visage.

Why not? Everything itched and burned, anyway. Perhaps he’d be doing himself a great favor.

Well, he knew at least why he was feeling itchy. The bandages he’d used to cover his neck had overstayed their welcome...

Fingers grazing the crude ‘cover’ he’d fashioned, Hannibal had barely started peeling back, when someone pounded rather violently on his door.

Swiveling around to flee from the bathroom, he pushed the band aids back down in the right place as he paused long enough just to be able to listen.

No one moved, and for a second, Hannibal guessed it was Adam...

...No, he _hoped_ it was Adam, anyway, and the moment he realized what his hopes were, he nearly slapped himself silly.

Delusional. Crazed.

Thankfully, a voice rang out, then, breaking him and emancipating him from the pains of having to hold expectations and entertain guesses.

“Nigel? It’s Harlan! Please open up!!”

What did Harlan want?! What could he possibly want?!

Thinking it had to do with the toilet the other man had recently fixed, he barked out, “One moment!” Tearing at the door, he swiftly unlocked it and opened it, not wanting the conditions of Adam’s apartment worsening due to negligence and time being wasted.

Frankly, he was in no mood to cover repair costs...even if he technically had been mostly responsible for the damages to begin with.

Swinging the door open as far as it would go, he’d been seeking for a way to start the inevitable conversation he’d longed to avoid having, when he broke out into a growl of complete disappointment.

Right next to Harlan Keyes stood Beth Buchwald.

Fantastic. They both looked beyond irate, too.

At this point, upon discovering that Harlan wasn’t alone, Hannibal didn’t even need to force himself to snap into ‘Nigel mode’.

Face scrunching up quite minaciously, he hissed, “The fuck do you want?” He’d mostly been directing that harsh jab at Beth, but Harlan gasped in shock anyway.

Beth’s index finger protruded like a weapon, and she stabbed Hannibal in the chest ferociously repeatedly. “Didn’t we warn you that if we discovered or heard of you abusing Adam, there would be trouble?!”

Her voice was rather vexed, loud, and shrill, and already, the emotions fluctuating from it summoned up the curiosity from a few neighbors. Those brave enough opened their doors to peer into the hall suspiciously. It did nothing but annoy Hannibal, so he yanked Harlan into his front hallway swiftly.

“I’m _not_ having this conversation out in the open,” he snapped viciously, and nodded at Beth. Reluctantly, she too entered the apartment, but not before rolling her eyes at him.

Slamming the door behind her, Hannibal glared down at the shorter Harlan. The older man appeared to be quickly intimidated by ‘Nigel’, and he hung his head down submissively.

Good.

When the three of them stood awkwardly in pure silence for too long, Beth gently nudged Harlan with her shoulder.

Impatiently, Hannibal exclaimed, “Well?! I don’t have all fucking day for you two to be mute!!! Speak!!”

That evidently wasn’t nearly enough to coax a response from them, unfortunately. Internally, Hannibal was reduced to a ticking time bomb. Literally seeing the numbers counting down behind his closed eyes and along every protruding vein in his body, he seethed and broiled over in anger.

“SPEAK!!”

He despised how much his temper was flaring because of these two simple fools.

Eventually, Harlan’s head snapped up, and he stared for a quick moment at Hannibal. “Nigel,” he began timorously, “I remember asking you once before to treat Adam extra nicely.”

He of course hadn’t ever had such a stupid conversation with the man, but he knew Nigel had. More guessing games left as gifts for him by his deceased stepbrother, no doubt.

Shrugging, he coldly supplied, “I _am_ nice to him!!”

Beth’s eyes flashed dangerously, the light bouncing off the centers before she yelled, “That includes being _super patient_, _loving_, _gentle_, _and nurturing_!!”

Head tilting angrily and stiffly in her direction, Hannibal drawled, “If I needed and wanted a damn list, I’d have simply asked you to email it to me, Beth.”

His sarcasm had been rewarded with another eye roll from the young woman. The gesture was very quickly becoming grating...

“Look, Nigel,” Harlan’s gentle voice came at his ears. “We just want the best for you and Adam.”

Nodding vigorously, Beth added, “Mostly Adam; I could care less about you though, Nigel.”

Placing a hand up to his ear almost delicately, he then cupped it around the appendage. Pantomiming someone who’d supposedly gone deaf, Hannibal gasped, “Shit, do you hear something, Harlan?”

“Nigel—”

“Maybe it’s just me, but I hear an awful lot of bitching going on here!”

Beth rolled her eyes for the third time, and Hannibal lost it.

Looming over her maliciously, he sneered angrily in her face, trying to appear as ravenous and crazed as possible. “Roll your fucking eyes at me _once more_, Beth, and I’ll—”

Apparently, this had served as the catalyst to motivate Harlan to react.

Weaving himself before Hannibal and Beth, he glared away at the former psychiatric doctor before panting out, “Don’t you _dare_ threaten Beth ever again, or I’ll take you down myself, Nigel.”

When Hannibal gazed directly into Harlan’s eyes, he found nothing short of murder written all over them like a promise waiting. Yes, this man was absolutely serious; he meant every word he’d said. This wasn’t something to be tested and toyed with, and the longer Harlan’s eyes pierced through his own, the more Hannibal felt something akin to a telekinetic wave pushing him and forcing him back.

Not wanting to trifle with that and incur Harlan’s wrath, Hannibal had no choice but to back down in spite of being on the warpath to defend his own name to the end. It just wasn’t worth it in the slightest to fight this man. Perhaps he _could_ take Harlan on for a battle and come out the victor in their skirmish, but Harlan still reminded him all too well of Jack bloody Crawford. Not too long ago, Hannibal had foolishly trodden down that winding, twisting path, and he wasn’t at all fond of making the same mistake twice.

“Fuck it,” Hannibal spat his defeat, spinning away from Beth. The woman was too quick to gloat, and he didn’t want to bear witness to how magnificently her eyes would glow knowing he’d lost and been knocked down a peg.

Childish immaturity at its quintessential best, indeed.

As he combed his loose bangs back from dangling in his face, he heard Harlan rasp in exhaustion. “Nigel, I know that when you and Adam first expressed interest in each other, I promised you both that I would remain as uninvolved as possible. You’re grown adults—”

“I only see and always saw _one_ adult in the entire relationship,” came Beth’s snooty jab at Hannibal’s expense.

It was Harlan’s turn to roll his eyes. “--You’re _both_ grown adults,” he reiterated vehemently, stressing the word ‘both’ while tossing a scowl at Beth. “But that means you guys should _behave _like adults and talk things through!!”

Pushing her long, dark hair over her shoulders, Beth’s straight, open body posture and stance indicated that she meant ‘serious business’. Hannibal had been around plenty of angry women before, and he didn’t want to bother with arguing any more than he already had. On any given day, he would take on Harlan, the Great Red Dragon, Jack Crawford, _and_ Nigel rather than bicker with a woman.

…Especially Beth.

Suicide seemed like a better, friendlier option.

Sewing his mouth shut as far as handing out ‘insults’ was concerned, Hannibal feigned a minor look of remorse and interest, all blended into one big mess as he gazed forlornly and apologetically at the wall, and then at Harlan. Hoping the man would at least buy into the act somewhat, Hannibal burnished his eyes with raw emotions as best as he could.

“I…I know you’re right, Harlan,” he began by talking to the man’s ego, “you must know I care for Adam, and I’d never harm him.”

Beth let out a crude snort that sounded more apropos to someone choking on phlegm.

Perhaps he’d been out of practice if she wasn’t buying into his act…of course, he’d been beset with quite a number of odd foes in his lifetime, and some were more difficult to handle than others, but Beth Buchwald by far seemed to be the worst of enemies he’d accrued over the decades. The woman held an air of stubbornness and peculiar doggedness he’d never witnessed as a trait in another person before, and while it did well in terms of bolstering her sense of ego, independence, and heroic nature, it didn’t bode well with Hannibal. It wasn’t even that he held much of an agenda anymore; he would gain _nothing_ from Adam. What would being with Adam even bring him? Money? Wealth? Fame? Glory? Hannibal felt he was more so in it because the youth highly resembled Will Graham, and that was it.

Yes, he would freely admit to only himself that he found a lot of Will in Adam, and he was beginning to enjoy his vain imaginings. Was it so wrong? Did someone have to swoop in and rob him of that? Why? Hadn’t he suffered enough?

His burgeoning anger and contempt for the hand he’d been dealt, as well as the vindictive feelings emanating from Beth and Harlan took over him. Possessed by that anger, he felt it swarming out of himself in a heavy, thick cloud, lingering above as he seethed in silence.

“Harlan,” he grunted, his voice breaking down many octaves, “I wasn’t going to do anything to him. You know that.”

Beth squealed, “_Do something to him_?!?”

“Is there a fucking echo in here?!”

Eyes slowly fluttering shut, Harlan exclaimed, “Nigel, I don’t have any doubts about that, but Adam’s a bit spooked.” Pointing at him, he concluded, “You were the only person with him last, so it had to be something you said or did, even if you don’t want to admit it to save face here.”

Two pairs of dark brown eyes began scanning and assessing him; both Beth and Harlan weren’t entirely convinced that Hannibal hadn’t played a hand in Adam’s upset. Of course, he had to be the villain, and Adam was always going to be depicted as the innocent victim…

Of course.

Sneering nastily, Hannibal crudely jabbed at them both, “If you’re here to chastise me, berate me, and bludgeon me over the head with notions of what kind of a worthless, abusive piece of shit I am, then you can both turn around and head back to your damn homes. I don’t want to hear it.”

Sliding his body between theirs, Hannibal clutched at the door handle, and as he turned the knob, Harlan’s large hand shot out and clamped against the door. It sealed away anything else Hannibal could do, and it forced the man to turn his attention back to Harlan. The demand presently in the older man’s eyes increased, as did the urgency given the way he was breathing; nostrils flaring like a mad bull’s, heart racing like that of a wild rabbit’s.

Though Hannibal made no move to stare back at Harlan since it felt as though a concourse of strangers were studying him, he composed himself in as ‘neutral’ and as calm of a manner as possible. He knew he wasn’t as comely as before, and it was only a fool’s wish to try and force a smile unto his face at this point.

All he could do was rasp with misery lurking behind his tone, the minor forms of regret hinging along the way unknown to even himself. “I don’t know what you want from me.”

Harlan and Beth exchanged clamant looks, though they didn’t try to compete with each other to offer up any words and statements, yet. Their doughty spirits and thoughts kept them going as Harlan stood closer to Hannibal and practically breathed down his neck. It sent a few shivers up and down Hannibal’s spine, but he swallowed down his body’s involuntary responses, all for the sake of remaining as cold and removed as Nigel perhaps would.

Leaning into him, Harlan growled like a bear, “We’ll be watching you extra closely, from now on. Adam deserves to be treated like the sweet young man he is, and if you even _think_ about straying from that, Nigel, you’ll live to be eternally sorry on a daily basis.”

Eyes bearing into the wood of the door, Hannibal wished he could ignite it right then and there on the spot just from his thoughts alone. He’d never felt so powerless in his life, even when he’d been placed behind bars. Somehow, this was tragically more demeaning than anything else he’d suffered through.

Tapping the door, Harlan hissed, “Do you hear me, son?”

Licking his lips, Hannibal barely managed to whisper, “Perfectly.”

“Good.” Moving back finally, Harlan draped his arm over Beth’s shoulders. “Let’s go.”

She followed him after a moment of glaring heatedly at Hannibal, her eyes holding all the contempt one human being could channel towards another human being. Hatred manifested itself in the fleeting looks she gave him, and as her heels clicked on the old, sullied floors, she too departed from Hannibal’s apartment.

The door swung shut on its own, with Hannibal still gazing intently right at the spot he wished he could set aflame in order for the whole place to go down in flames.

Nothing could match his rage and potent anger tonight.


	14. Shelter From the Storm

Feeling quite cumbrous even for a full day after the ‘lovely talk’ with both Harlan and Beth serving as his beautiful hosts, Hannibal once again employed the age-old method of sequestering himself in the confines of his apartment while diving down into his forbidden thoughts. The doctor would never admit it aloud, but he was confused by Adam Raki. Hannibal frankly didn’t know what to do with the enigmatic, eccentric youth. Adam Raki held no specific place for him in his life or mind, and yet he was taking up far too much space lately.

Wherever Hannibal went, and whatever he did, he couldn’t help but think about Adam Raki. The strange young man followed him everywhere, taunting him like a field of fresh, wild fruits and berries ripe for the picking. Adam Raki followed Hannibal all throughout his daily routines, sauntering into his dreams, venturing through his desires. Always so effortlessly, his thoughts focused and centered on Adam Raki. It got to the point where Hannibal wished he could buckle down and actually slit the youth’s lovely throat. But that wasn’t feasible, and Hannibal somehow knew that the world-or whatever was left of its blackened root-was a lot more beautiful and radiant with Adam in it as opposed to removed from it…but what could he do?! No matter how hard he tried, Adam would persist even in his thoughts behind close eyelids!!

Adam Raki followed Hannibal when he cleaned his apartment. He was there when he prepared meals, went shopping, sought out forms of leisure, and Adam Raki even took to following him when he was in the shower. This last and latest discovery knocked into Hannibal by complete surprise. Usually, Hannibal wasn’t one to really engage in masturbation too often, but whenever he had a headache and was visited by clouded thoughts, it was an effective method for trying to alleviate and expiate for whatever was ailing or troubling him for the moment. As such, he’d spent quite longer than he’d have liked in the shower, and what started off in his twisted mind as a threesome between himself, Will Graham and Alana Bloom soon turned into strictly passionate lovemaking between Hannibal and Adam. What frightened the former psychiatrist was that the moment he abandoned and pushed Alana and Will from his mind and replaced them both with Adam, the harder he grew between his legs, and the faster he came exploding all over his hands and the wall in front of himself.

Angrier than ever with his treacherous body betraying him, Hannibal exercised as much as he could in his apartment. He went through plenty of sit ups, lunges, push ups, as well as minor forms of ab exercises and weightlifting to distract himself from whatever had happened in the shower. He considered it a mistake; a moment of heedlessness that wasn’t even called for simply on account of spending far too much time with Adam Raki. It was a logical problem and a logical solution was always ready to present itself.

He had to seek another sexual partner. Perhaps if he did, then he wouldn’t ever feel the burning need to wank off thinking about Adam. He just needed a new body to sink into, a fresh heat to warm up his bed.

Setting out to do precisely that, Hannibal took off quickly, wandering the streets of Manhattan for the nearest pub or bar. This was way beneath himself, as he’d often found lovers in opera houses or after live performances of his most favorite plays and theatrical performances. His sexual tastes matched that of his high-class dining and cuisine. To think of himself in a run-down, foul-smelling rotten pub as the one he’d crawled into was abhorrent, so Hannibal avoided addressing himself as ‘Hannibal’. Even internally, he ceased behaving and thinking like Hannibal Lecter. Quickly, he donned on the social ‘airs and graces’ of Nigel Ibanescu, as he figured the only way he would be able to live through the night would be to hide and cower beneath the shadow of his deceased step sibling.

Perhaps it was gutless and idiotic, but Hannibal wasn’t willing to put up with beguiling and seducing someone of such low standing without ‘preparing’ himself mentally, first. Suicide would be a greater option…

As his eyes scanned the immediate area of the bar he’d entered, he recalled that he hadn’t even checked the name, the exact location, or even what time of night it was. He’d fled from his apartment so quickly as a means of preventing Adam from running into himself, that he’d broken away from his usually sharper than normal powers of perception.

Clueless. Raw. Demeaning.

The air here was stale, and the putrid stench of salty sweat, body odors secreting all sorts of emotions and thoughts, as well as cheap perfume, alcohol, and cigarettes practically blinded him. Unsure of where to even begin, Hannibal sat himself down on the only stool that was still available right before the bar counter. He would’ve preferred hiding in a booth somewhere, but majority of them were occupied.

Eyeing the bartender, Hannibal quickly muttered that he would be ready to order in five minutes. The need to become inebriated wasn’t entirely required for the job; not until he decided on a partner to bed down. Scanning and surveying everywhere he could, Hannibal felt he was faced with another problem. While a greater many of the patrons in the bar were already with someone else hanging off their shoulders and arms, only a few elderly men were apparently ‘single’. The numbers were small; the chances slim. Even as a few women and men strolled in, Hannibal felt yet another dilemma slamming into his skull almost immediately.

The former doctor had no idea if he wished to take a male partner, or a female. While both genders were attractive and quite appealing in their own ways, no one in the bar who appeared to be ‘single’ caught Hannibal’s interest. A few of the women singing and giggling in their own little social groups wore perfume that was quite too strong. It was an immediate turn off for him. The younger men didn’t appear to want to be with a member of the same gender; they were already chatting up a few of the women.

Time was ticking by, and for every second that passed, Hannibal’s mood darkened and worsened. Perhaps it hadn’t been such a great idea to come here, after all. He wasn’t wanted, and there was no way he could even pass as one of these…citizens.

Perhaps there was no harm in trying, however…

Finally deciding to give it a shot, he got up to his feet and wished himself ‘good luck’…or whatever that truly meant. Venturing around the crowded, packed bar, Hannibal made sure to avoid the disgusting menagerie of sweating, panting creatures posing as humans if but for one night. The ones who bothered him the most generally kept out of his way, chasing after their own seedy lust and heady notions of ‘fun’. 

Uncaring for their plans, Hannibal paced over close to a new group of young women he’d never seen before. If he had to guess, he estimated that judging by their youthful skin that glowed, seeing their clothing and fashion styles, as well as how in-shape their figures were, he assumed they were no older than their mid-twenties. 

Too young, Hannibal thought, and as he stood by the young women and listened in on the conversations they were having, it absolutely proved that their youthfulness was going to be a major issue for him. They were speaking about artists and singers he’d never heard of, personally. Hannibal felt completely clueless, but if it was sex he’d be getting from one of them, he was willing to put up with it...

...Or so he foolishly and inaccurately thought. 

The moment he inched closer, one of the women laughed, and as she drew her head back, Hannibal was utterly shocked. Not only was her laughter obnoxiously loud and akin to the evil cackling of a witch, but her teeth were horrifically huge. It didn’t match her lovely face in the slightest, and he felt turned off right away.

Turning his attention to the female next to his ‘initial choice’, he smirked confidently as he bowed and got ready to introduce himself. 

She made eye contact, but then sneered in quite the execrable manner. Her ‘coven’ of friends all glanced up at once, their heavy makeup covered faces glaring and scowling resentfully at him. 

Taken aback, Hannibal felt his words drying up in his mouth. Once again, he felt like giving up was a solid strategy before they mocked and degraded him relentlessly. 

_They’re too young for me. _

….

A chilling thought soon opposed the first one he’d entertained. 

….

_Adam’s young, too...in fact, possibly the very same age as them..._

But then why was it that whenever Adam looked at him, his eyes welled up with such powerful emotions? Why did Adam always seem so ecstatic and thrilled to see him? Why did Adam never want to leave his side?

….

_Because he thinks I’m Nigel; that’s the only reason why he wants me._ The harsh coldness of the words spun in his head dangerously, causing Hannibal to nearly buckle down in putrid anger. Of course, it wasn’t at all real desire and want of him from Adam, but of Nigel. He’d been delusional to think otherwise. 

Motivated by pure anger and the frustrated sense of resentment he felt towards Adam, Hannibal cleared his throat and looked at the tall blonde he’d been planning on sleeping with. Although she still seemed cold and indifferent to him, he felt it could’ve easily been changed by his manly influence and sway over her.

Standing confidently by their booth, he spoke out gently-but deeply, “I’m Nigel.”

A voluptuous, curvy African American girl sitting on the other side of the blonde girl snickered, “Why should we care?”

That set Hannibal right off in all the worst ways possible. Still, he kept it together as best as he could in spite of the oncoming sense of humiliation he felt he was doomed to suffer through. 

Patience slowly slipping when the other girls rolled their eyes and whispered, he smiled at the rest of them before he lost it. “I’m talking to someone else; mind your own business.” Purposefully omitting the word ‘please’, he felt triumphant...though it was only for the moment and too short-lived for his tastes. 

The young woman he’d wanted to initially approach laughed even harder. Hannibal quickly mentally dubbed her ‘Loud Mouth’. 

Chin jutting forth defiantly, the blonde hissed, “What do you want, grandpa?”

“Grandpa?!” This practically electrocuted Hannibal. Since he was already aware of his age, it didn’t do his confidence any justice being labeled as a ‘grandpa’. He had to stand back for a quick second and ask himself what he honestly was doing here. 

There was no escaping it; facts were facts, and these women were far too young and immature to even talk to, let alone take home for the night. He’d made a huge mistake. 

Unfortunately, the African American woman interpreted his silence the wrong way entirely. Rising from her seat, she yelled firmly, “She asked you a question, deaf man!”

Her aggression lit a fire in Hannibal’s chest. Immediately, he felt the impulsive need to react with aggression as well. He wasn’t even willing to hold it back anymore; not when it wanted to spill forth like fire and bile at once. 

Brows furrowing in a tight knot on his forehead, he rang out, “Fuck off and mind your own business like I asked you the first fucking time, you bitch!” 

The other women who were silently spectating abruptly hooted and clapped, egging their ‘leader’ on more than they should have. 

Getting around the booth swiftly, the heated young woman got up in the older man’s face at once. Fearlessly, the blonde followed her, expensive high heels clicking and tapping far too loudly for Hannibal to tolerate. It seriously gave him a headache as much as their perfume did. 

Though he refused to back down, he knew he soon had to when the taller, stronger woman shoved him roughly in the sternum. Each time she pounded against him, Hannibal felt that he’d badly misjudged the entire situation. This woman was quite strong for her age and body frame, and he was left feeling even more embarrassed. 

“The fuck you calling me a ‘bitch’ for, hoe?!” She shook her head wildly at him, and as he fell back, he eyed security guards pacing about on the other end of the bar. 

Trying to contain the situation, Hannibal orated in a sibilant hiss, “Don’t fucking touch me!!” 

“You don’t disrespect my woman, then!” 

As though receiving a harsh slap to the face, he froze, and his eyes blew open wide. 

“What? Your woman—” the words were quickly stolen from him when the blonde woman was tipped back by the more aggressive female. Their lips met softly at first, and a few seconds later, the two women _really_ went at it. The kiss grew wild and unhinged, and they’d made their point loud and clear.

Hannibal was now even more convinced he’d made a fatal error even coming here in the first place. 

While the two women made out with each other and groped certain body parts lewdly, Hannibal turned to ‘Loud Mouth’ and the other two unnamed spectators. They all grinned at him, and Loud Mouth flipped him off fearlessly. 

Surrendering with his hands held up, he rasped, “I’m sorry...I’m...” No further words needed to be spoken; it was time to move on and save face as much as he could once he’d picked up his wounded pride and ego off the floor. 

Tearing away from the women, Hannibal soon learned that only a few young men sat about all alone in the pub, now. Everyone else was ‘paired off’ and the night was moving quickly. Many couples played pool, gambled with cards, danced about drunkenly, or were making out heavily in the shadows and booths. 

And he had no one...how charming and delightful. Perhaps he really _was_ a ‘grandpa’...

Hannibal’s confidence quickly waned like the moon, but as he searched for a partner, he was shoved around and tossed aside like an old, undesirable dirty shoe. Not even switching to trying to land a male for a sexual partner did him any good. All too soon, he’d been threatened and nearly punched, and jeered at for half an hour. 

He couldn’t take it. The beady eyes leering and assessing him unfairly, the talon-like fingers pointing him out, the boisterous unnecessary rounds of laughter at his expense. All of it was tearing down the layers of brick walls serving as his protective shield...he’d been reduced to nothing but a laughingstock. 

Knowing where his rightful place now was, Hannibal ambled like a wounded animal over towards the same vacant stool he’d begun his journey from. It sat waiting rather obediently for him, so he returned to it. Head hung low in utter shame, he flagged down a passing bartender, as much as he didn’t want to.

It was time to drown himself in copious amounts of alcohol. Perhaps then he would be able to forget his growing failures...maybe.

(--~*~--)

Alone in his apartment, Adam trembled in a mixture of anger and sadness while curled up on his bed. Nigel had hurt him! He’d yelled at him, ignored him, and he wasn’t willing to talk!! This hurt.

As soon as the young man had been left alone with Harlan after Nigel ran away, while repairing the toilet and as much of the soaked bathroom as he could, Harlan knew there was something wrong with both Adam and Nigel. Though the younger man tried hiding it and distracting Harlan from talking about it, the other man wasn’t willing to let it go. Claiming he’d wanted to help, Adam soon buckled down and explained how problematic things sometimes were with Nigel. He elucidated to Harlan that Nigel had been acting…weird lately.

“Weird? How?” Harlan snorted while he packed up his tools and chuckled. “Nigel has always been weird, Adam! Tell me about a time when he _wasn’t_ acting weird, son!”

Harlan was right when it came to certain things about Nigel, but this was…different. Nigel was different, and Adam was unable to put his finger on the reason ‘why’. This was more than just him speaking funny; it was _everything. _Nigel not only was speaking oddly, but his overall general behavioral pattern was completely off the charts. He didn’t want to cuddle, he didn’t long for his cigarettes, he didn’t want to drink as much cheap beer as before, he didn’t constantly tease, he didn’t grope at him, nor did he want sex as much, if at all…

Something was wrong with Nigel, and whether Harlan saw it or not was immaterial. Adam knew his lover better than anyone else, and he was absolutely positive that Nigel wasn’t well. He needed to find out why, and what he could do to help him! This was the only thing on Adam’s concerned mind, and it drove him so insane, that he wasn’t able to hear footsteps storming right up to his front door.

Suddenly, a fist bashed against the middle of the door, and the object went banging wildly into the wall. Shrieking in fear, Adam leapt up, and he quickly grabbed onto a tiny kitchen knife to defend himself in case someone was breaking in. The knife itself wasn’t even sharp enough to cut an apple, but Adam wielded it mightily, eager to fight for his life already…

Waiting at the far end of the hall nervously, Adam lowered the knife, the lights beaming and bouncing off the clean blade. He wasn’t even blinking; he didn’t want to miss anything…

As the door slowly started to inch half-closed, Adam heard someone shuffling and shifting their feet along the length of the hall. The heavy scraping sounds rubbed along the old floors, and Adam knew someone was definitely there. Squinting, he held his breath, but made sure he didn’t relinquish his hold on the knife. His own feet moved barely an inch, but he crept closer and closer down the hall anyway, ready to fend off the invader at any given cost.

Once he was close enough to see just who it was, Adam saw a dark shadow moving about, and then someone swept inside his front hallway. The front door slammed all the way shut in a hurry right after, echoing with a loud ‘bang!’. The sound was resolute and final; the guest was inside.

Emitting a small sigh of relief, Adam lowered his hands and smiled. “Nigel! You’re home!!”

The older man swayed on his feet, hair messy, dripping down along his temples and forehead in sweaty, stringy parts. His eyes were red, and there were prominent bags beneath them. Huddling down, it appeared as though he was concealing something from Adam, but the younger man hadn’t paid attention to such details. He was overjoyed with the fact that Nigel was home and back with him, and he walked on ahead towards the other male.

The moment he did, Nigel seemed to turn about halfway, and as he faced the door, he let out a deep snarl. Pausing in his tracks, Adam was taken aback and shocked from what he’d heard. His jaw dropped, and as he studied ‘Nigel’ from head to toe, he quickly determined that a lot was wrong with Nigel.

Worried beyond comprehension for his older lover, Adam loomed over him while Nigel bent over. Wrapping his own limbs around himself, he trembled greatly, and a thin sheen of sweat gathered on his forehead. Dripping down from the bridge of his nose to the tip in little droplets, his chest heaved in and out, and his eyes were blown wide.

Gently lifting his free hand that didn’t contain the knife, Adam pressed a hand against his lover’s stubbly cheek. At once, Nigel’s eyes flashed dangerously, and his face grew beet red. Slapping Adam’s hand down, he bashed himself against the door roughly.

Grunting out in the pain he felt from having to hold back on himself, Hannibal snarled viciously, “Don’t touch me, Adam!”

Feeling quite abashed, Adam flushed as well before muttering sheepishly, “S-sorry, Nigel…I was just trying to help!”

“I don’t need your help,” Hannibal spat back angrily, body aflame and blood throbbing and pumping in his veins so powerfully and loudly that he could hear it in his ears. That only sent him deeper down into despair, and it wasn’t even close to holding up a candle when it came to the despair he’d felt back at the bar. Though he couldn’t remember most of the night after being rejected and nearly thrown around as if he were trash, Hannibal knew something had happened to him from the time he sat down on his stool to the time he felt his body on fire. Now, it even itched, and the longer he remained around Adam, the worst it seemed to be.

He needed to shed his clothes off…all of them.

Glaring at Adam, he tried maneuvering himself out of the way, when he saw something flashing. Pausing, Hannibal tilted his head while wrapping his coat tightly around his person. Eyes narrowed before his mind pieced together just what the object was.

Almost wanting to reach out and attack Adam, a most offended Hannibal drawled viciously, “You have a weapon.”

Eyes flickering down to his hand holding the knife, Adam sputtered while fumbling for his words to form the reason. However, Hannibal didn’t want to hear it.

Gathering enough energy to hold a hand up, the other clinging tightly to his coat, his eyes grew hateful and dark. “Forget it,” came his despondent reply, “I’m a monster and quite the nuisance, aren’t I?”

Shaking his head wildly, Adam cried out, “Nigel! Th-that’s not true!!” He tried hiding the knife behind his back, but that only made it worse for Hannibal. What did it matter when he’d seen the knife already there? What did it matter when Adam Raki even feared him?

Pushing the younger man aside, Hannibal held his head down and cowardly made way towards the bedroom.

Following him much too quickly, Adam yelled out to him, “Wait, Nigel! I wasn’t—”

The moment Hannibal slowed down in his pacing, Adam stopped himself before he nearly slammed into the older, taller man’s strong, broad back. His fingers unfurled around the knife handle, and the object clattered to the floor with a dull ‘thud’.

Eyes wide with innocence blaring forth, Adam desperately pressed out, “Nigel! Please trust me!”

Cutting him off, Hannibal sniffed as he replied, “I don’t, and I want you to leave me alone for the rest of the night, Adam.” Not even bothering with a curt nod, he made way for the bedroom again, the intent to lock it the first of his priorities that night.

His ears registered the sounds of Adam sniffling and then sobbing, but he didn’t care; he had other pressing, urgent matters to attend to. His physical health was at stake, and Hannibal felt his situation getting worse around Adam. Soon, he knew he was going to be attacking the fresh, handsome young man, and he needed for there to be a wide enough and large enough distance between their bodies.

Yes, though he wasn’t fully certain of it, yet, Hannibal felt that he’d been drugged back at the pub. He wasn’t sure who’d done this to him, for he was equally loathed by all who’d frequented that bar. However, the telltale signs of being drugged were present, and not just by any drug. Whatever it happened to be, it caused delirious thinking, delusional thoughts, his body overheated, he couldn’t stop sweating, shaking, and his clothes felt much too tight. An itching and burning sensation rose between his legs, and then traveled up past his stomach and into his chest. The only desire he felt was to rid himself of his clothes, and that was what Hannibal wanted to do.

Bulldozing into the bedroom, Hannibal closed the door effectively after kicking it shut, but the burning, throbbing pain in his head, all over his limbs, and within his bones demanded far more attention than he could handle. Confused, lost, hopeless, and clueless, he didn’t even remember that in his current state, he left the door unlocked.


	15. Backfire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *WARNING!! SEXUAL CONTENT UP AHEAD!!! READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!*

Adam sensed something was wrong with Nigel when he heard what sounded much like a bottle falling to the floor. It made an awful clattering sound followed by a chair being violently scraped back against the hardwood floor. He jumped out of his skin as the sudden flurry of noise scattered away the eerie silence that had been there before. It was when he heard a deep moan that got to his feet.

“Nigel? Baby, is everything ok?” he cried as he left the living room and re-entered the hallway leading to his lover’s bedroom. Was Nigel sick?! He’d wanted to feel the other man’s forehead earlier to take his temperature, but Nigel had been distant and mean!

Inching up closer to the bedroom door, Adam peeked down, and he saw shards of broken glass sliding on the floor and its contents spilt right beneath the doorway. “Nigel!” he all but shrieked, “there’s broken glass!!”

Peering down at it, he determined it was only water, thankfully.

Another moan sounded before ‘Nigel’ called back, “I c-can’t…ugh…”

Panicking, Adam palmed the door like a desperate animal trying to get in. “Nigel!! You’re not well!”

“No fucking shit!”

Ignoring the harsh rudeness thrown his way callously, Adam announced boldly, “I’m coming in!!”

A gasp sounded, followed by, “What?! NO! Fuck off!!”

“I’m worried about you, Nigel!!” Not wanting to argue anymore, Adam tried the door handle. To his relief, it was unlocked, and he pried the door open without any other obstacles in his way.

Once the door opened up to his bedroom, he found Nigel standing in the corner next to the bed with his hands against the wall. Those large hands that had once held him and softly weaved through his hair were trembling violently. To see his Nigel in such a state truly terrified Adam and broke his heart. Shrinking back in fear, he let out a sad half-sob when he heard Nigel taking deep breaths in and out. He could hardly even stand on his own…

“Nigel?” he breathed out curiously, considering calling 911 like Harlan and Beth had always encouraged him to do in case of a serious emergency.

“Urgh, uhh.” Hannibal grunted gutturally, knowing that it was difficult to even speak. His mind was clouding over with thoughts of flinging himself directly on top of Adam and tearing his clothes off. Oh, heavens, that sounded quite pleasant in his mind, to his body, and to his cock. It twitched in further interest as Hannibal entertained ideas of fucking Adam for the rest of the night.

While Hannibal stood and lost himself to his fantasies, Adam saw that he had a pained expression on his face, and he seemed to be trembling. It only contributed to the youth’s growing concern for his older lover, and he couldn’t handle it much anymore when Hannibal grew red in the face and huffed out with raw need.

“Nigel, what’s the matter?” Adam asked softly while taking a small step towards him. Timorously, he stared at the older male’s face, but Hannibal kept turning his head away from Adam’s line of vision.

“Leave now at once, Adam,” he stammered, stopping the brunette in his tracks. He was breathing heavily through his nose, nostrils flaring like that of an angry bull tearing through a China shop.

Wringing his hands nervously, Adam’s hair fell into his eyes as he stared at Hannibal once from head to toe. “Shall I get some help for you, Nigel?”

Help? Help?! Of all the foolish things to offer, especially _now_, of all damn times. To think of the mortification if he was ever discovered in such a state…where would they even go to get help?! The damn hospital?! Right, _that_ would be a laugh, indeed. At his age, most men would feel envious and glorified at the idea of sporting an erection that had already lasted over two and a half hours. It wouldn’t do any good boasting about it in the hospital.

When he failed to provide an answer on time, Adam turned and made a break for an old phone resting on one of the night tables. “I’m calling 911, Nigel!”

“No!” He yelled, snapping out of it enough to leap up. Suddenly, he threw his head back and again let out another moan. Helplessly, Adam froze and watched him clench his fingers into fists against the wall.

Pounding the wall over and over, Hannibal felt his mind swirling into a puddle while his body temperature steadily rose. He felt as though he was on fire, and there was nothing he could do about it. This was a sensation of burning from the inside out.

“Nigel, are you ill?” Adam questioned curiously and fearfully, forgetting about the phone for the moment at least.

_The damn brat,_ Hannibal thought to himself, _why can’t Adam just leave me alone?_

Pacing closer and closer to him, Adam softly drawled, “Nigel? Is there something I can do?”

“It’s…ahh.” His hips were starting to buck slightly. He knew he was beginning to lose control. He wasn’t going to last even a minute at this rate; Adam was too close, and he could practically feel the other man’s breath on his neck.

Acroamatic. Sensual…tremulous…

“What’s wrong, Nigel?” he asked gently, and it was doing nothing good for Hannibal’s dick. His senses were all on the alert for Adam especially; he could smell him, taste him, practically, and soon, the need to share body heat would become too great to hold back on and resist.

“It’s my…”

“Your what?” Adam’s voice trembled fearfully.

“It’s my cock, you infernal man!” He snapped, finally giving up and bursting out what he’d been hiding all along. From the moment he exited the lousy bar, he knew something was wrong. The last drink he’d downed tasted…bitter, but Hannibal tossed that off to the fact that whenever he would engage in social drinking, he wouldn’t dare touch anything less than a few hundred dollars in costs. Cheap beer was nothing for him, but given his limited options, he’d settled for it. However, as he’d made his journey back to the apartment building he would be sleeping alone pathetically in, he felt that something was terribly wrong with his body. It’d started out as heat pooling down from his neck to his chest, first. The terrible heat traveled down all the way to his stomach and abdomen, then, and before Hannibal knew it, he had sported a rather large erection.

Concealing it from the public had been quite the difficult feat, but he limped back towards the apartment when he kept to the shadows and avoided any bright lights. His hand had been tightly wedged between his long, powerful thighs, but that made it all worse. Anything in the form of physical contact with his cock was dangerous. As a result, his erection grew larger, thicker, heavier and the need to bury it inside someone’s tight, wet heat overpowered all his other senses completely.

He was so screwed.

While he choked on his words, Adam’s eyes grew wide and he stared down at his partner’s hips. Hannibal was still fighting to keep himself still, but it was no use; Adam was too close, and the need to have sex outweighed anything else. Frowning, Adam couldn’t see any evidence that something was wrong down there, but the young brunette wasn’t entirely clueless. He knew that from the way ‘Nigel’ was gripping his crotch, the problem had to be ‘there’. But how was he going to ask about it without Nigel getting angry?! Nigel had been yelling too much lately, and he was always angry!!!

Opting for a ‘gentle approach’ like Beth and Harlan had wisely encouraged him to do, Adam whispered in a sweet tone, “Tell me what happened, Nigel.”

That had done the trick. Hannibal peered over his shoulder, and then ever so slowly, he turned and made it so that his back rested against the cold wall. It didn’t help much with the internal heat, but it somehow calmed him down. He shut his eyes tightly, trying not to look too much at Adam or even smell him. Clearing his throat, he groaned out painfully, “One of the vile bar patrons must have spiked my drink with an arousal drug...” When Adam’s eyes widened, and he emitted a confused gasp, Hannibal roared, “AN APHRODISIAC!!”

Jaw hanging upon hearing that acidulous word, Adam wheezed, “I d-don’t understand how they got one, Nigel!”

Resisting the urge to punch himself in the face and knock his own ass out, Hannibal bemoaned, “I know they’re easy enough to purchase on the black market and between other damn drug addicts!!” Blood boiling with anger and frenzy, he snapped, “When I get my hands on them, those animals will beg for death!” He muttered his vicious promise more to himself than to Adam.

“I don’t understand, Nigel!” Adam clipped out after a moment, and his innocence made Hannibal both want to slap him silly across the face, and also bend him over the bed and brutally violate him. This wasn’t good; Adam remaining in his presence wasn’t abirritating or ameliorating the situation in the slightest.

Fighting for control, he rasped brokenly, “As I zoned out in the damn pub, a group of silly young girls stopped me to ask a question. I was foolish enough to take my eyes away from my drink, and the damn place was so dark and so crowded by that point. They must have put it in right then! How could I have been this stupid?” He growled as his head slammed against the wall.

In the silence that had gathered between them, Hannibal realized that the anger that rose while recollecting what had happened was distracting him slightly from the throbbing of the painful erection he was now sporting. As soon as the thought and memory crossed his mind, the distraction was gone, and all he could focus on was how much he needed to come at that very moment.

He groaned again while turning to the side, and pushed his hips forward to grind gently against the wall in front of himself to relieve some of the pressure. Now all he needed was for the innocent, foolish young boy to go.

“Get out now so I can deal with this,” he yelled when Adam stepped closer to see what was going on.

Refusing to budge, Adam panicked a little, and then blurted out in an aberrant mess, “An aphrodisiac is a substance that increases sexual desire, sexual pleasure, or sexual behavior in humans and animals!! Substances range from a variety of plants, spices, foods, and synthetic chemicals! Therefore, they can be classified by their chemical properties, such as substances that are natural and unnatural!” Even faster, he rambled on, “Natural aphrodisiacs like alcohol are further classified into plant-based and non-plant-based substances!! Unnatural aphrodisiacs like Ecstasy are classified as those that are manufactured to imitate a natural substance! Aphrodisiacs can also be classified by their type of effects, for instance, psychological or physiological—”

Rounding on him viciously, Hannibal-at the peak of his acerbated mood-ground out through clenched teeth, “I DON’T NEED THE FUCKING SUMMARY FROM WIKIPEDIA! JUST GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE BEFORE I RAPE YOU, YOU BASTARD!!!”

Was it all clear, now?! Had he made his intentions succinct before the youth?

Perhaps he indeed had.

Whiter than a ghost, Adam swallowed thickly, and then quickly turned to leave.

As soon as he turned on his heel to go, Hannibal wasted no time; he tore off his heavy, sweaty clothes and relieved himself of the pressure caused by his trousers and underwear. He wanted to free his aching erection as soon as possible, and he didn’t even notice that Adam was still present in the room.

Adam reached the door, but he paused when he abruptly heard a zipper being pulled down. He couldn’t help turning his head slightly. The brunette’s eyes grew wide again as he witnessed his lover pull his cock out, hard and erect. Though Adam had seen Nigel’s penis before many, many times, every time he saw it, he felt as though it was the first instance he’d been seeing it. Naturally shy, the youth clamped a hand over his mouth to muffle out shocked sounds that escaped from him. He couldn’t help but take in the details of Nigel’s large, thick penis; the veins running through it, the swollen head that was glistening with what he knew to be pre-cum from what he had read and learned about in textbooks on human sexuality, but also through their numerous times spent in bed.

Frowning slightly, Adam discovered that something was rather…different. Though there was a lot he recognized there, Adam still felt that a lot was also…odd and peculiar about Nigel. Why was he larger, thicker, and somehow more powerful? Not just in terms of his cock size, but his thighs and legs? Adam wasn’t ever one to really complain much about average penis size or anything, but from what he could see was that Nigel looked even more fairly well endowed, at least from this perspective. Not too long, but thicker than he could remember for sure.

It must’ve been the drug…right?

….

No…his cock didn’t look as clinical as before, nor was it at all like anything Adam had seen in porn when he was alone, and when Nigel had been in Romania. It also didn’t resemble itself anytime he’d observed it when they’d been intimate.

…This was much, much better!!

Adam marveled at how it stood out, tall in all its glory against his lover’s pubic hair. The slightly aroused youth gasped as he observed Nigel reaching his hand down and starting to rub his thumb over the slit spreading the pre-cum around. Weakly, Adam tried to swallow the lump that had grown in his throat as he saw Nigel wrapping his hand around his pulsating member in a fist to start pumping up and down. He was going at an alarming speed and Adam couldn’t help but wonder how that could be pleasurable, but from the noises he was making it was obviously giving him great relief. 

“Nigel, let me help you?” Adam didn’t know where the words had come from before they had left his lips. Although Nigel had threatened to rape him, the younger man’s mouth had been forming the words before his mind had even considered the consequence of them. Yet now, they were out, and his breath was quite shaky as it lingered between them.

Hannibal slowly glanced up. “What?” Hannibal couldn’t believe it. “Still here?!” he asked while his hand stilled. He’d been so overcome by pleasure and relief that he’d failed to even notice that the other man had never left the room.

Cheeks pink, Adam sighed. “Nigel, you’re in a rough state.” He reasoned further with his older lover, but he wasn’t sure why he was even pushing the matter. He supposed he must’ve been going crazy; it was never like him to just let such candid things come out of his mouth. Nigel had often initiated sex, but for some reason, Adam wanted to initiate it tonight. The burgeoning need arose when Nigel had touched himself so wildly right there in front of him. Since then, it was like he’d been mesmerized as he watched his lover pleasure himself.

Loudly swallowing despite his throat being parched, Hannibal whispered out in a husky tone, “Why do you want to help me?”

Adam reminded himself as well ‘Nigel’ that he’d had a cruel trick played on him. If ever he deserved help it, was now.

Not convinced entirely, Hannibal sniffed, “No…I d-don’t—” A broken moan flew out of himself, and he slapped a hand over his mouth in a failed attempt at concealing it.

Biting his lower lip, Adam walked to his side. “Why don’t you let me help you? You’ll hurt yourself more this way, Nigel!” His voice sounded more confident now, and he felt a lot better in spite of the earlier warning thrown at him.

Nigel would never hurt him, no matter what…he’d promised so…

“Worried I’ll rip my cock off, are you, Adam?” He couldn’t help but sneer. “Do you have any idea how inappropriate this is? I told you to leave.”

He resumed his previous activity and began squeezing and pumping his cock again shamelessly. It didn’t matter whether Adam was here or not; he needed to touch himself.

Pausing midway, a filthy thought crossed Hannibal’s mind. Almost licking his lips hungrily, he purred out deeply, “Do you want to keep watching? You’re welcome to it…”

Still advancing, Adam shook his head. “I know I could watch, but I don’t want to do that.” Stubbornly, he announced, “I’m the one suggesting that we do more. It wouldn’t be like you forced me! Really, I’d just be helping you out.” He winced as he watched his lover tugging at his cock almost furiously before fondling his own testicles.

His hand moved slower as he considered this notion.

The wheels in Hannibal’s head were turning horribly, but it was a battle of will. What his body was wanting and begging him to do, and what his conscience and morals told him to do were at war. Unsure of which side would win, he resumed his stroking while he inched back into the wall.

“Having sex with someone so young is highly inappropriate conduct of anyone,” he breathed. Was he really taking Adam’s request seriously? He started to question his own sanity if that were indeed the case. Surely it was the damn aphrodisiac forcing him to feel that this was something he could do. It had also been such a long time since he’d been physically close to another person that he was finding it hard to resist; here was an opportunity to find relief from somewhere other than his own hand offering itself up on a plate, and yet had knew it was better to reject it…he _had_ to!

“I know that it’s wrong to rape others, Nigel,” Adam answered bluntly. “I didn’t mean sex,” he blushed. “I could just, you know, do what you’re doing. Use my hand?”

“Still inappropriate,” Hannibal murmured, though he shivered and trembled at the sensual idea.

Adam took another step closer, eyes shining playfully and seductively. “But I’m your boyfriend, Nigel; it’s not wrong if we do it.”

Groaning at the sound of how sexy Adam’s voice sounded to him, Hannibal timorously hissed, “Please don’t speak; I can’t handle it…” He again fisted his cock and balls, using the wetness that had gathered there already as lubricant before his hand flew up and down expertly.

Almost an inch away from him, Adam let out a small, soft noise. “But it’s true,” he cleverly pointed out, “we’re together, Nigel, and I want to help you this time like you’ve always done for me.”

“Adam,” Hannibal whined, panting in need, “you…I…we…fuck…just…”

“Shh,” Adam whispered as he walked the last few steps to stand beside his lover. The shy brunette hesitated before placing his hand over Nigel’s and moved it away from his cock.

Lips curling back over his teeth, Hannibal growled. “Adam, you don’t know what you’re doing,” he warned as the shorter man moved him to lean against the wall.

“Just tell me to stop any time,” Adam said in a voice that still held some of his earlier confidence but concealed just how nervous he really was. This was the first time they’d be doing this with Adam leading, but the younger male wanted to please his lover in any way he could, and that was the only goal in his mind.

Meanwhile, Hannibal felt as though he’d been tugged back and forth viciously between heaven and hell the moment Adam touched him for the first time. He knew he should absolutely be telling such a young person to stop straight away, yet as he felt Adam’s fingertips stroke up and down his cock, he just couldn’t find it in himself to do so.

Damn. Whatever Adam was doing felt a lot better, and Hannibal was grateful to let his arm rest down at his side to allow someone else to take over.

His cock felt smooth against Adam’s fingers as he moved them from the head down to the base and back up again. He gasped softly, and that spurred the younger man on to do more. Hesitantly, he wrapped his thumb and index finger around Hannibal and started to move them up and down before slowly wrapping all his fingers around him and gently squeezing, experimenting. Glancing up at him once, Adam graced him with a small smile before he continued pumping him in his fist, gradually getting faster as Hannibal moaned and muttered under his breath.

The former psychiatrist found that Adam’s hand was inexperienced, yet it had been so long since Hannibal had felt anyone else’s flesh along his own. To him, the feeling there gliding back and forth, up and down, knuckles grazing over his balls, all that was over whelming enough for him. He was barely aware of the unintelligible sounds that were coming out of his mouth, but they flew out deliciously as Adam worked his cock perfectly.

When a clear enough rhythm had been set, Adam looked up to see his partner’s head thrown back against the wall, his mouth open on a gasp and his eyes tightly shut. His fists were clenching and unclenching at his sides as if he were trying to hold back from maybe grabbing at him…

“There’s no need to hold back, Nigel,” Adam suggested, assuming that Nigel wanted to hold him. He began increasing the pressure and speed of his hand while he smiled wider. “I won’t think any less of you if you want to touch me, too.”

Biting down on his tongue, Hannibal cringed before spitting out in a rush, “Shut up for a moment, you brat!!” It was already bad enough that he’d accepted Adam as an adjutor in the midst of his prurient acts; he didn’t need to be put down further.

Considering this, he’d almost lost control. If only Adam knew the truth, he thought, that in the most depraved part of his mind he didn’t want this to be over. That the thought of Adam’s small hand leaving his cock was an unhappy one. He really couldn’t hold back any longer though; he’d been desperate to come ever since he’d swallowed that damn drug in his beer.

As Adam’s touch felt so damn good, Hannibal needed a visual to go along with it. He looked down to see Adam’s slender fingers wrapped around his length, seeing the head of his engorged cock appear and disappear between his fist. The sight of his hand on him sent him over the edge all too soon, and he suddenly came groaning and gasping.

Not quite pausing, Adam looked down and watched his lover’s release spurting out over his hand. Nigel was taking short breaths as he came over and over again all over Adam’s warm skin. Blushing, the younger man didn’t know how much longer he should continue gently squeezing his lover’s cock. It was too hard and too full…

Gasping, Adam commented, “It’s still so hard, Nigel…there’s so much coming out!”

Hannibal couldn’t take it. To hear Adam’s lewd commentary about his own body was his undoing. Needing to stop this, he found Adam didn’t mind at all when he wrapped his hand around the younger man’s wrist to stop him while he continuously milked him.

Wincing in mortification, Hannibal panted out desperately, “Thank you, Adam, but that’s fine.” Standing tall once he’d composed himself, he leaned over one of the closest night tables. Fingers shaking, he somehow managed to yank out a fresh tissue, and he used it to wipe his cock clean, Adam’s hand, as well as his thighs. Once that was all done with, he pulled his underwear and trousers back up. He hadn’t looked at Adam yet; he couldn’t bring himself to. As embarrassed as he was about the entire ordeal, Hannibal felt conflicted.

It was wrong, yet it had felt right enough that he knew he wanted more…

When he finally looked up to face Adam, he was met with a most delicious sight. Adam Raki’s cheeks were tinged slightly pink, and this time, he was sure it wasn’t because he was embarrassed. When Hannibal looked curiously along the length of the younger man’s upper torso, he could see his nipples pointing erect through his white t-shirt.

Swallowing nervously, Hannibal was unable to hold back. “Your nipples are hard,” he stated obviously. A devious smirk soon overcame his face without his knowledge. “It seems I wasn’t the only one who enjoyed that interaction…”

Again losing himself to his instincts, Hannibal reached up with his right hand, and he barely tapped Adam’s left nipple. The reaction he’d been met with was a most pleasant, most positive one; Adam shivered and moaned in sheer delight. He was aroused, too.

_Yes…he’s quite sensitive and hard…how beautiful…_

While Hannibal stood back to study Adam intently in all his glory, he discovered to his reverent terror the very _last_ thing in the world he’d wanted to notice. It came to him as a shock, a bolt of electricity just striking his brain and nearly sending him into a deep coma he wished he could never wake from. For to wake would mean he would have to suffer through the pains of consciousness and alertness…of his wants…of his desires…

All of which were centered on Adam Raki.

Hannibal Lecter desired for Adam Raki; Hannibal Lecter _wanted_ Adam Raki.

He was going to have him.


	16. Vice, Lust, and Desire

The drugs he’d been slipped worked all too well at removing whatever ‘filters’ and walls Hannibal had once hidden himself behind. The protective shields and fortresses he’d surrounded and buried himself in were no more once the caritative aphrodisiac toyed with his brain and heart. The shackles and fetters soon disappeared, and only an aching sense of lust and sensuality apropos for a sycophant of the sins of the flesh was rising forth too quickly and too intently.

Hannibal could’ve never controlled it, and he found he didn’t even think of considering that as an option. For how could he when a delicious, delectable, delightful, handsome, stunning creature such as Adam Raki was here with him, now?! Adam was sublime, he was radiant, he was beauty, and he was divinity.

Possessively, Hannibal gushed, “You’re mine.”

The words riveted potently through Adam, drawing out an innocent reaction that entailed the brunette to peer down at their feet. Beneath his breath, he purred out, “I know, Nigel.”

“I want to fuck you,” the next licentious thought came aloud rather than being spun around in the confines of his convoluted mind, and already, Hannibal was cursing himself.

…No, that still wasn’t enough to communicate and convey what raw, filthy things he was set and planning on doing to Adam. Hannibal wanted to sully this young thing as much as he could…if that would even be enough to soothe the burning tension throbbing between his legs.

Licking his lips as though he’d been about to devour the most bounteous feast, he announced aggressively with a snarl that lashed out, “No, I’m _going_ to fuck you.”

Adam blushed scarlet red, this time most definitely from embarrassment. He was sure once the drugs had worn off, Nigel would regret all that he was saying now. Why had he touched him?? Why had he said such dirty words to him like that?!

Trying not to whine out desperately, Adam whispered breathlessly, “I c-can’t seem to help myself when you say these bad, dirty words to me, Nigel…” Eyes trailing up and down the broad, well-built stomach and abdomen sporting silver and blonde hairs, he panted, “I want it…”

Eyeing the youth’s pert nipples peeking out at him, Hannibal growled aggressively, “Touch them.”

Adam’s breath caught in his throat. This had been about helping his lover, and now, he himself was the one placed under the focus. Adam couldn’t deny that touching Nigel had turned him on, and he knew his lover was aware of this. He was only glad Nigel couldn’t see how damp his boxers were.

Hungrily, Hannibal watched as Adam nervously raised a hand to each breast and gently kneaded them. He sighed at the feeling, but when his bodily reactions were pleasant enough for himself, he smiled.

Eyelids half lidded, he purred, “Th-this feels good, Nigel…”

Slipping into ‘doctor’ mode now that he’d already been ‘freed’ of his own burdens and shackles, Hannibal turned to the side and leaned against the wall. Now that he was fully facing Adam, he started appreciating the beautiful views tremendously.

“Why not focus on stimulating your nipples?” he suggested to the younger male as he took his own left hand and slid it inside Adam’s shirt to rest against his right breast that was steadily growing harder and sharper beneath his large palm.

Biting back a groan, Hannibal could feel how Adam’s nipple stood erect even more now without the barrier of his shirt and only Hannibal’s warm hand resting over the sensitive flesh.

Removing his hand from Adam’s shirt, Hannibal quickly grabbed Adam’s own hand and slid it back up his shirt.

“I want you to circle the areola yourself,” he instructed when Adam cried out, mourning the loss of contact. 

Shyly, the young man did as he was told and took an intake of breath. Cheeks turned red when he was met with a pleasant tickling feeling the more he moved his fingers in clockwise motions, and he greedily lusted for more.

“Now, do the same to your nipple,” Hannibal gasped as he watched Adam’s chest intently. The sights he’d been adjudged with were beyond beautiful, but he knew he had to keep his comments to himself lest he wanted to spoil the magic.

Adam complied again, and this time sobbed impatiently at the wondrous feeling. He was vaguely aware that Nigel was watching him, and yet it didn’t feel wrong to be doing this in front of him, in spite of it being still rather odd and ‘funny’. Adam decided to trust Nigel; he seemed to know exactly what he needed to do to feel good.

Hannibal pushed the feeling of wanting his own hand on Adam’s breast to the back of his mind. He was glad he could only see the outline of the young man’s hand touching his nipple under the fabric of the shirt, because if he were to see him touching his naked breast, he was sure it would be a temptation too far.

Licking his dry lips, he barked out, “Pinch your nipple.” His voice was deep with arousal as he said it, but he didn’t care.

“What?” Adam rasped, hands slowing down marginally.

“Trust me. Start gently and then increase the pressure.”

Peering down at his own feet, Adam wasn’t sure how he felt about this; pinching seemed too harsh to feel good. But Nigel had been right about everything else. So, he took his nipple between his thumb and index finder and gently squeezed it. His mouth fell open as he did it, and had it not felt so good, he was sure he would’ve cringed at the moan that left his mouth.

Trying to muffle the sound for a moment by clamping his lips tightly shut together, he’d been taught that this was the wrong thing to do. Nigel grabbed his face in a strong hand, and he pried Adam’s mouth back open immediately.

Foreheads pressed together, and Hannibal panted gruffly, “I said I want to hear you once before; don’t hide anything from me.”

Adam moaned louder while nodding quickly. Pinching his nipple was sending delicious jolts down to his core, but so was hearing Nigel’s voice like this.

“Don’t forget your other breast,” Hannibal hurriedly pushed out.

Adam swapped to give his left breast the same attention, vowing to do anything and everything his older lover told him to do. In the middle of it, as he’d been pinching his left nipple, he maintained the sensual and scenic pleasure that involved looking up at Nigel. The blonde then drew in a breath, and Adam’s hand slowly stilled.

“Nigel,” Adam trembled, “you’re hard again.”

Gazing down quickly between his legs, Hannibal softly sighed. Yes, he knew he was hard again. Instructing and watching Adam touch his nipples had brought it about. But he knew fully well the reason why he was able to get another erection so soon after he’d experienced an orgasm not too long ago. It was a thought that had crossed his mind when the drugs had first taken effect.

Murmuring quickly, Hannibal spoke more to himself. “It is as I feared. Whatever drug they used has other consequences. I’ve heard of these sorts of ‘love potions’ usually given to older men trying to keep their younger sexual partners satisfied.” He groaned upon realizing it himself.

Still circling his round nipples, Adam crooned, “What will happen, Nigel?” His eyes turned dark and lustful, and Hannibal had to look away quickly before he lost himself.

“If it is one of these potions as I suspect, then I must experience however many orgasms it takes consecutively until the damn thing clears out of my system,” Hannibal explained while he shook his head. He couldn’t expect for Adam to help anymore. What they had already done was wrong. Yet, there was that painful erection again making him forget all consequences of his actions. He knew he would have to send the younger male away, however. Adam’s touch had sent him into a putrid, raw frenzy aching for more, but there was no telling what else he would want to try in his highly aroused state.

Biting back sobs and moans, Adam whispered, “You have t-to come again and a-again?!” He was leaning himself into Hannibal too much, but the older male found he couldn’t draw himself away.

“Yes, and each will be more powerful,” Hannibal suspected as he lowered his hand to rub his throbbing member through his trousers.

Watching him, Adam hummed in delight. “Well, just let me know when you’re ready and I’ll help again.” He remained calm throughout this, but his hands fell down away from his chest.

A bit annoyed that the ‘show’ had been interrupted, Hannibal growled. “What? No, Adam!” he rejected the offer strongly, “I cannot ask it of you. Too much has already happened between us in this room tonight, and it’s enough!”

Almost winking, Adam purred, “Exactly, so what’s one more thing? Don’t worry, Nigel; I can take care of you.”

Hannibal was truly stunned by how easily Adam had soothed him and taken things into his own matters, but he wasn’t going to argue a lot. All he wanted was to release again, preferably in Adam’s mouth…

He shut his eyes and began squeezing his cock through his pants once he imagined such a scenario. While his hand worked, he found that Adam was right; they’d already done it once, and this second erection was becoming as insistent and impious as the first. The thoughts of sending Adam back out the bedroom straight away were slowly dissipating. His breath caught as Adam once again moved his hand away. When had the shorter male gotten this close again?

Oh well. He didn’t care, not when Adam gingerly replaced his hand with his own.

“See? You need this,” he purred out convincingly. “Just relax.”

Adam lifted his hand and began opening the button on Hannibal’s trousers before pulling down the zipper again. His pants fell to his ankles, and the older male cringed as he saw a wet patch on the front of his underwear from where his cock was leaking pre-cum. 

Chuckling in amusement, Adam commented, “Don’t be embarrassed, Nigel. You’re just turned on; it’s not like you can help it.” Softly, he kissed his lover’s cheek as he gently pulled his underwear down and took his cock in his hand.

Hannibal groaned loudly when Adam began to squeeze him in his palm again. He couldn’t get enough of the sensation.

“I want to try something else,” Adam abruptly announced with a slight hint of hesitation. “Is that okay?”

Eyes opened narrowly, and Hannibal spat, “Fuck, you’re driving me crazy…”

_I want to fuck him,_ the older male thought, ever so glad that the notorious words didn’t make it out. Right now, he’d let Adam do just about anything he wanted. He nodded his head in confirmation when he saw Adam waiting for his answer. As he watched, he couldn’t help but gasp when Adam dropped to his knees in front of him. Surely he wasn’t intending to…oh, holy fucking god damn fucking shit, yes, yes he was. Adam tentatively licked the head of Hannibal’s cock, and he cried out at the feeling. It had been years! Years since he had had someone go down on him! Not even Alana tried this with him, but he didn’t care about her now. Adam was enough and his company would be an aeviternal blessing! Even the thought of the young brunette taking him in his mouth sent shivers through Hannibal so potently that he nearly fell over.

Adam tried not to shake as he licked the head of his partner’s thick cock. Truthfully, they had never done this before; it had always been Nigel who’d gone down on him. The bashful youth wasn’t exactly sure why he’d wanted to try sucking his lover’s cock, but the thought had come to his mind like a spark, and it’d seemed like the next logical thing after Adam had given Nigel a hand job. As well as he’d performed that, Adam knew he’d never given a blow job before though, of course. In amazement, he thought back to the only knowledge he had of what to do. It had been about a year ago when he was home for Christmas. He’d been looking for something else to read over the holidays when he’d come across some of his mother’s romance books. They’d been quite raunchy, to say the least. Erotic literature, he supposed they were called.

But those books held nothing when it came to reality. And the reality was that Adam was now trying this, and he found it wasn’t too bad. Carefully, he held the base of his partner’s heavy cock as he enclosed the head with his warm, wet mouth. Adam used his tongue to swirl around the top. Quickly, he found a particularly sensitive spot on the underside that made Nigel gasp and buck his hips wildly.

He knew his lover was going to lose his mind; he was sure of it. The second force of the drugs had really kicked in now, and Adam was aware that Nigel was fighting not to just shove his cock into his mouth and buck his hips until he came. This sent an odd sort of affection coursing through Adam; Nigel wouldn’t ever hurt him!!

Meanwhile, as he was thoroughly sucked, Hannibal was about to fall apart. Every voice in his head screamed at him to just fuck deeply into the tight mouth wrapped around his dick. He couldn’t frighten his new lover, though; he knew what he was receiving now was a privilege. The opportunity to have his cock between the tight, wet lips of a young man as beautiful as Adam Raki would not arise again, he was sure of it. Why ruin that chance due to a lack of self-control?!

Adam eventually began to take more of him in his mouth. Slowly, he used his hand that was holding Hannibal’s cock to start pumping him up and down. Carefully, Adam tightened his lips around Hannibal and used his tongue to lick him tenderly. Fuck, it certainly wasn’t as easy as it had seemed in the books, but his partner seemed to be enjoying himself. Adam was curious as to how much of his cock he could fit into his mouth. Wanting to test it, he relaxed his lips a little and slid them down until he could almost feel his lover’s pubic hair tickling his nose. He’d always said he didn’t have much of a gag reflex, and never had it come in handier than now as he relaxed his throat to take the throbbing cock in further and deeper.

And what a lovely reward Nigel was giving him! He was making the most animalistic groans above Adam, and it did nothing but spur the younger man on.

“Aaah yeeess! Take me into your mouth deeper!” Hannibal groaned as he gently held Adam’s head in a hand, moving it so that Adam’s skull was now bobbing up and down in a perfect way. His hips chased after that sweet pleasure, and Hannibal’s toes curled. “That’s it, Adam,” he howled, “yeeees, fuuuuck, right there, uuuh right there!”

His voice was shaking. Oh, fucking Christ, he could feel Adam’s throat muscles contracting around him. He was going to come all too soon. There was no way he would last under these ministrations. Where on Earth had Adam learnt to suck cock like this?

Adam was now bobbing his head up and down on Hannibal’s cock without being shown and guided, using his tongue to lick the underside of the organ embedded deeply in his mouth. ‘Nigel’ was crying out all sorts of profanities, so Adam assumed he must’ve been doing something right.

“Yessss, fuck yeees!” Hannibal growled at the height of his lust while he was certain his dick was tingling against Adam’s lips and tongue. He threw his head back, no longer caring what he was even saying, and for good reason, too.

The words were absolutely horrific.

“I’m going to impale you on my hard cock, Adam,” he garbled out his gasconism at one point. “I’m going to make you mine…I’m going to force you to ride me until you can’t walk…”

Encouraged, Adam moved his head faster, tongue swirling and flickering in a perfect way.

“Uhh I…I’m going to cum,” Hannibal bit down hard on his tongue. “Fuuuuuuuuck youuuuuuuu!”

He gave Adam plenty enough of a warning so that he’d have time to pull his head away. The youngster wasn’t moving away though; he only moved his head faster and remained firm and staunch in his task.

That was it; Hannibal saw stars.

“Uurgh!!! Adaaaaam!” He grunted as he spilt his seed inside Adam’s warm mouth with an explosion behind his eyes. He felt Adam’s throat contracting as he swallowed.

_Oh my fucking god, he is swallowing my come_.

It was beyond his belief. His second orgasm was so intense that he moved Adam’s head off his cock and pulled the startled young man up before wrapping his long arms around his small frame. All too quickly and all too powerfully, lips crashed down hard over lips. Hannibal was kissing Adam hard on the lips, and he soon lost control over that, even. In no time at all, Hannibal bit at Adam’s lower lip, forcefully demanding deeper penetration and entry by his tongue. A soft cry was his reward, and Hannibal spared not even a second before spearing his tongue deeply into Adam’s mouth.

He didn’t even care that he could taste himself on Adam’s lips and tongue. In fact, due to Adam tasting like him, Hannibal felt a new surge of arousal and possessiveness sweeping over himself.

But somewhere deep in the back of his mind, he knew he definitely shouldn’t be doing this. Kissing somehow seemed more personal. But in the aftershocks of his orgasm, he couldn’t stop himself. His hands were on either side of Adam’s head, holding the younger man to himself as he kissed and devoured him within an inch of his life.

Adam had initially gasped in shock when he’d pulled him up for their brutal, potent kiss. But as he settled into it, he moaned loudly. His lips were sensitive from having his lover’s cock sliding between them, and the desperate way in which he was kissing Adam made the young, ardent man feel slightly delirious. Goodness, his own thighs were wet with his own juices. If his nipples had been hard before, they were positively straining to break through the fabric of his shirt, now.

Abruptly, Hannibal pulled away as his senses came back to him. Their mouths tore off one another, and they gulped down mouthfuls of much needed oxygen. They both stood there gasping trying to catch their breaths for a few moments.

“Was that okay?” Adam finally asked him, wiping his lips with the back of a trembling hand.

Snorting, Hannibal choked on a retort. “Okay?” he gasped unbelievably. “Do you even need to ask the question?” Shaking his head, he slumped against the wall while searching Adam’s eyes. “Where in the world did you learn to give blow jobs like that? You must have had a good teacher.” Strangely, the moment he’d spat this out, Hannibal found he regretted it.

He didn’t want to even think about it, but his mind conjured up images and perverted sights of Adam blowing Nigel for hours. All too quickly, Hannibal’s rage and jealousy reared its ugly head. No. He wasn’t going to think about Nigel’s dick buried between Adam’s lovely lips, and his semen dripping licentiously down Adam’s chin…

Never again.

However, just before he’d been in the midst of begging Adam not to answer, the young man did so anyway.

Smiling gently, he replied sincerely, “No, I never had a teacher.” Adam then laughed softly before adding, “I researched through reading just books and stuff.”

There was an awkward silence between them as a more relieved Hannibal moved to pull his underwear back up. Adam rubbed his legs together while he turned away. Desperately, he’d been trying to relieve some of his own pressure that had built up there. Unlike Nigel, he was too shy to ask for half the things he’d bestowed unto his older lover, but it was alright.

“How long do you think it will be until you’re erect again?” Adam asked, already planning on seeking more of his own pleasure with Nigel sooner rather than later.

Quickly catching on, Hannibal frowned. “No,” he all but hissed, “I can’t let you do more for me.”

Adam practically squealed, “But you said you need to do this many times!! Did I do something wrong?” As he asked his question, he felt ashamed at how his eyes started to prickle with tears.

Jaw nearly dropping to the floor, Hannibal nearly exploded in rage. How could Adam Raki be asking this?! Did he seriously house such doubts within his mind?! How?! Why?!

Astonied, the older man rasped, “I think you’re aware that by my reaction to your hands and mouth that you did nothing wrong there. Any conduct of this kind between us-however amazingly it feels-is wrong, though. I will give myself the third orgasm.”

His response still hadn’t been finished, and Adam had already sensed it.

Sniffling, he asked innocently, “Why?”

_Because I can’t sleep with my deceased half-sibling’s lover._

The words never came. Hannibal only sighed when he’d seen how hurt Adam was since he’d pushed him away. But this was for his own good. As much as Hannibal enjoyed the experience, he knew it could never continue. But what hurt the older man more was Adam’s stance and lack of self-confidence. How could he think he wanted him to leave because Hannibal hadn’t enjoyed the ministrations to his cock? In the back of his mind, he desperately wanted for Adam to stay and help him achieve an orgasm for a third time, but he knew it couldn’t be.

Either way, Adam Raki still belonged to Nigel; he always had, and even now, he saw Nigel; not Hannibal.

Mind made up, Hannibal broke eye contact. “You must leave. As I already said before, the orgasms become more powerful, and since we already went too far, I don’t know what I might do next time…” He groaned the moment he’d finished his sentence; he knew exactly what it was that he might end up doing. Most likely, if Adam insisted on staying, Hannibal would tear the younger man’s clothes completely off before slamming his cock into him and taking the youth right there savagely on the floor. And with that thought, Hannibal found was becoming hard again.

Thinking quickly, Adam proposed, “What if I don’t mind?” His eyes trailed how Hannibal’s underwear tented while he became erect again.

Eyes nearly rolling back into his head, Hannibal considered it for a few seconds before his conscience screamed out ‘no’.

“I’m warning you, Adam,” he began in a dangerous tone he hoped the youth would regard seriously. “Now is _not_ the time to be offering such things…not when a man is in a state like this.”

Beyond exhausted, Adam resigned himself to the fact that he would have to leave. He knew really that Nigel was right, and they shouldn’t be doing any of this. Unfortunately, Adam was now dealing with his own arousal too. His own cock was throbbing, and he’d already felt the evidence of how wet he was dripping down the insides of his thighs. Perhaps he’d head back to another private place and sort himself out.

Not wanting to anger his lover, he merely nodded in spite of how much pain and turmoil he was in. “Okay, I get it, Nigel.”

“Good,” the other man panted out in his relief. “I need you to go, but please understand that everything you did for me…it was more than I could’ve asked for.” His honest and sincere words ushered Adam back towards the door where he should’ve been headed in the first place.

Trying hard not to burst out into tears, Adam craned his head down. Eyelashes fluttered as the first signs of the salty, dewy drops fell, but he made sure his back faced ‘Nigel’ first. “Goodnight, Nigel,” he managed to cough up, hoping that his lover would do whatever he needed to do and then leave the bedroom so he could sleep.

Hannibal grunted, “Goodnight, Adam.”

The door clicked shut softly, and Hannibal nearly crumbled down to his feet. He watched Adam’s shadow cast beneath the door leave before he resorted to pulling his cock out again and settling his hand back into sliding up and down his shaft. The entire time he stroked and fucked into his own first, his mind was swarming with thoughts of Adam’s hands and mouth raging through his mind.

_I need you, Adam…as wrong as it is, I can’t help but need you…Hades be damned._


	17. Fate’s Mistake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SMUT WARNING!!!

Hannibal burst into the bathroom like a hurricane, nearly doubling down over the sink. Like a wild man without the fetters and shackles binding him down, he saw the frenzied look radiating in his eyes once he glared at his own reflection in the mirror. His mind spun and swam in ways that didn’t feel all too pleasant. Sensing the burgeoning need to vomit the contents of his bowels out, Hannibal gripped the sink tightly. Knuckles turned ghostly white, and he felt the toxic, nocuous alcohol churning and churning repeatedly within his system. It was beyond excruciating; he had to rid himself of its putrid hold on him at once. 

Kicking the door shut, he hadn’t bothered with locking it; there wasn’t much time for that...not unless he desired to throw up on his own feet, anyway.

Right after sending Adam out of the bedroom, Hannibal threw himself down onto the bed, where more than three more orgasms had been ripped from his lewd, wanton body. He’d never before experienced so many damn orgasms in one night, and the man was absolutely beside himself with worry. Grateful he still had stamina for all this, Hannibal wanked off until he felt his arms and hands aching.

Enough was enough. This surely had to be the end of it!!!

….

His cock twitching in such salacious, wanton ways told him that no, it wasn’t the end of it. Hannibal didn’t want to pass out from masturbating. The _last _thing he needed was for morning to arrive, and for Adam to wander into the bedroom and stumble upon his passed-out self with his dick in a hand while he’d gone blue in the face. As scary and as silly as that was, he didn’t want to land in the hospital and explain to nurses that he’d hurt himself from masturbating too much. As if he didn’t have plenty of his own damn issues to begin with.

That’s why Hannibal had eventually-albeit, reluctantly decided to remove as much of the contents of the aphrodisiacs from his bowels and internal organs as he could. It was a case of having no other choice but to rely on the old-fashioned method of vomiting it all out.

Practically being reduced to bowing before the toilet, Hannibal pushed to ignore the humiliating fact that he’d never been this badly inebriated in his life that he needed to throw up like some stupid frat boy after a crazy party. Aside from the dangerous levels of intoxication and alcohol poisoning, he still sensed the aphrodisiacs he’d been unceremoniously drugged with pooling about in his loins. 

The damn things still persisted in making him as hard as a rock between his legs in spite of just having come not that long ago. 

This was pure, undiluted torture. There wasn’t any other way to describe it, as melodramatic as it sounded even by his own definition and requirements. 

Torn between wanting to head out back into the bedroom in order to rouse a slumbering Adam Raki for another round of sex and wanting to handle the matter himself, Hannibal’s conscience soon kicked in. Weighing heavily over his shoulders, it didn’t require much in the way of time before Hannibal made the decision to recure himself. 

No. As much as he wanted to chase after Adam’s sweet body, it was plain wrong to want to wake Adam up for this. The younger man was no doubt beyond exhausted as it was. Vowing not to be that selfish and rude, Hannibal closed his eyes and counted mentally to ‘three’ in the hopes that he could at least steady his beating heart before it escaped from his chest. 

Self-induced vomiting wasn’t at all enjoyable, even for the intended purpose of clearing his system. Every time the foul mix of saliva and burning stomach acid gathered in his mouth and throat, Hannibal really made an effort not to retch and cough loudly.

_I can’t wake Adam...he can’t see this and fuss over me... _

Over and over again, he threw up the contents of his churning bowels down below, only ceasing when his mouth felt parched. Not wanting to remain there all night vomiting out saliva and dry heaving, Hannibal decided it was enough, now. 

Flushing the toilet as quietly as possible by sitting down upon the closed lid in order to muffle the sound, he held his head in his hands and felt his headache worsening. Groaning in anguish, he found that when he opened his eyes to peer about himself, the room was most assuredly spinning. His head was spinning faster than a damn top...

It didn’t exactly help matters at all when he stood up too quickly and felt all the blood rush down south, but he only had himself to really blame for that one. 

“Fuck,” Hannibal hissed quietly to himself as he fought and struggled hard for balance and control. Eventually, he was able to get a hold of himself by using the hand towel rack next to the shower as a means of support before he toppled over pathetically. 

Head throbbing and pounding violently, he saw veins about to burst behind closed eyes. The lights above beamed and flashed terribly, and his skin felt sweaty, salty, sticky...much like the sensation between his thighs.

Hannibal longed for a shower.

Yes, that would help wash off the disgusting bodily fluids caking and clinging onto his feverish skin. It was what he wanted off, anyway, and it would hopefully take his mind off other things. 

Working quickly, Hannibal divested his torso of his clothes, dropping and pooling them down at his feet in one pile. Shrugging out of his loose pants, to his genuine horror, he discovered that he still had quite the prominent erection. It rose and bumped up against his lower abdomen, refusing to go away as it should have. Like an annoying ‘thing’ from hell, he felt he sadly couldn’t deal with it anymore to banish it. No matter what, it taunted him and demanded his attention. 

Palming himself roughly, a disgusted groan flew forth from Hannibal’s lips. Spinning about weakly, he searched through the caliginous cabinets until finding a bottle of minty mouthwash.

This would at least help with his putrid breath...

At least a smidgen of hope was there! Solving one problem at a time wasn’t too pitiful, really. Throwing his head back and swishing the mint flavored mouthwash deeply into his mouth, Hannibal swirled it a few times and for a minute before spitting it into the sink. Not even bothering to wipe his lips, he turned over to the standing shower. It was practically crying and calling out to him!! He could hear it!! 

Chasing after it, Hannibal smoothly stepped in past the open doors. Turning on the faucet a tad sloppily, he braced himself up by slamming a hot hand down on the right side of the tiled wall. Adjusting the water temperature from ‘warm’ to ‘cold’, he was set on trying to squash his pulsating cock in _any_ way...but it was no good.

Hot or cold, it didn’t seem to matter; the erection wasn’t going anywhere. This had to run its course naturally until the effects of the blasted aphrodisiac left his blood stream. This was quite an unfortunate circumstance, indeed, and no amount of throwing up would solve the problem. 

“Fuck, I’m so fucked,” he panted out desperately, already knowing what he had to resort to soon. But he didn’t want to...he didn’t want it at all...

How much longer could this go on?! His balls ached due to how heavy and full they were, and his cock demanded for so much more than he could handle. Even the way the warm water fell over his shoulders and chest, dripping and sliding down to his thighs and cock was too painful. Hannibal felt he would explode at any given moment if this persisted.

Resting his back against one of the walls, he first resorted to ducking away from the harsh spray of the water. As it pelted down against his heated flesh, it was driving him crazy, and he couldn’t deal with that. When that pressure had been removed, a more ‘grateful’ Hannibal Lecter tried palming himself. For some reason, he found that as soon as his thick fingers curled around his length, it burned.

What was this?! Was his stupid body rejecting a hand job?! Why now?!

Hoping that wasn’t quite the case, Hannibal tried it once more, but his ‘self-examination’ failed miserably in no time. The moment he’d tugged on the tip of his tumescent cock, a burning, flashing pain ebbed throughout his entire lower torso. Regretfully, Hannibal knew that a simple hand job wasn’t going to do it. His body was now accustomed to wanting and needing much, much more…

Almost wailing out in terror, Hannibal’s eyes snapped shut, and before he could crumble down to his knees like a lost child, the bathroom door opened. He’d almost missed it at first, but then the thick fog and steam dissipated marginally, and the sliding glass doors of the shower were sliding open. Fresh, cooler air seeped in, and Hannibal opened his eyes.

Nearly rearing back in abrupt fear, a choked cry escaped his lips. Standing there right before himself was a soaked Adam Raki. He was dressed in the same white t-shirt and dark shorts, and he’d willingly entered the shower stall clothes and all. As the water liberally poured over him, his clothes turned beyond drenched and clung to his body in obscene ways. His muscles popped out, and while he wasn’t as large and as bulky as Hannibal himself was, the older man was glad to know that Adam wasn’t exactly on the side of ‘thin’ either. Everything was presented to him in elegant and delicate proportions, and Hannibal’s mouth again turned drier than the desert.

Adam looked absolutely perfect. His cheeks were rosy and aflame, and his heart was no doubt soaring in his chest. Sternum puffing in and out, he clenched his fists in tight balls, and he reached up with a hand and flicked some water off the tip of his nose. He licked his lips in spite of them already been quite wet, and Hannibal nearly melted upon witnessing such a serene sight. Adam’s hair was matted to his skull, and his eyelashes formed together and clung in thick clumps down to the onslaught of water pouring generously over him.

So beautiful…

A vafrous thought suddenly howled painfully and miserably in his mind, and Hannibal found that as frightening as it happened to be, he couldn’t wish for anything other than what he heard echoing about in his vacive skull so potently.

_He should be mine…god fucking damn it all, he should only belong to me!!! _

Who was he to deny himself and his dark desires? Perhaps some of it had been attributed to emanating and being borne from the concoction he’d taken into his system, but that couldn’t have been all of it…surely not!! There was more than Hannibal knew he longed for than sex from Adam Raki, but to search and chase after it now wasn’t wise. He needed to wait for the effects of the drug to leave his system completely, and then he would return doggedly to his thoughts.

_Yessss…_

Content with that as much as he could be, Hannibal moved back along the wall, trying to assess the situation. All he knew was that Adam was here with him, but was this a dream?! He’d called out to the youth unconsciously; that much was evident in his perverted desires. But was Adam really here with him, now?! Though he wasn’t one to fabricate and daydream often, in his presently fucked up state, he wouldn’t put it past himself either way to dream up Adam being in the shower with him.

Reaching forth with a trembling hand, an enervated Hannibal shrugged out of his timorous feelings that’d once encased him tightly. What he was going to be doing didn’t require the fetters and chains of doubts. There wasn’t much room left for spurious notions; he needed clarity, and he was sick of his mind obfuscating the senses. Whatever he’d been seeing as a cloudy mist needed to be present. He wanted to touch it and feel it rather than have it flit away as an obscure fabrication.

Gently allowing his flesh to make contact with what he hoped was Adam’s chin, the older male let out a long sigh of pure relief when warmth seeped back into the palm of his hand. Adam really was here; there was no way he was dreaming or imagining this up.

Though he didn’t smile, Adam allowed Hannibal to caress his cheek for a few moments before he stepped back. When Hannibal let out a deep growl meant to warn and encourage Adam not to even entertain the idea of leaving, Adam quickly acquiesced. They both stared down at the thickness of Hannibal’s cock protruding upward, heavy and full with blood and want. It seemed to grow and bulge the longer Adam studied it, and very carefully, the younger man inched back. Wisely choosing not to leave the room and exit the shower, Adam instead slowly gripped the bottom of his wet shirt.

When Adam looked away and began to shrug out of the shirt he was wearing again, Hannibal’s vagarish eyes remained dead set on watching his every move. While Adam disrobed outside the shower stall, Hannibal’s cock sprang up into action. Enjoying the view far too much, Hannibal tenderly stroked himself even through the burning sensation coursing through his cock. He just couldn’t help it; Adam shredding off his clothes was a sight far sexier than watching a super model lying on his bed naked while spreading her long legs invitingly. In fact, the moment thoughts of another woman flew into his brain, Hannibal felt truly disgusted, and he banished and cast all thoughts of another person far from his mind.

His entire focus was now on Adam Raki, and that was all Hannibal wanted. Cock rising harder and thicker than ever, instead of fleeing from it and fearing it, Hannibal merely welcomed it. Resorting to stroking himself lazily while he watched Adam divested himself of his boxers, Hannibal waited as patiently as he could until the younger man was good and ready.

Adam pushed his wet clothes out of the shower stall, and the moment he turned to Hannibal, that was it. Lunging forth without any semblance of thoughts or concerns holding him back, the taller, bulkier male nearly crushed himself to Adam. Due to the rough force at which Hannibal had crashed into Adam, the younger man had been knocked against one of the walls, and he brutally bashed the back of his skull against the tiles.

Upon hearing that loud, dull ‘thud’, Hannibal hissed in remorse. Adam didn’t seem to mind, however. Strangely unaffected by the brutality, he only inched on his toes and kissed ‘Nigel’ sweetly and tenderly on the lips. Spiraling out of control the longer Adam’s lips grazed over his stubble, Hannibal bent to the will of his raw, animalistic nature.

Roughly, he trapped Adam between his own body and the shower wall. Strongly pinning the other male to the cold wall, he set to tasting whatever his sweet body had to offer. His mouth latched onto one of Adam’s pert nipples, tongue swirling along the edges, teeth tugging on the hard tip. Immediately, Adam’s head fell back, and he began to gurgle as Hannibal’s hand came up to pay attention to the other nipple, pinching and then rubbing over it to smooth out the pain.

Both men inched closer together, naturally seeking out the need to be pressed against each other. The steady stream of the water beat down more over Hannibal’s exposed back, and as Adam had been left against the icy tiles, he soon trembled from their coldness flowing into his body. Somehow, the moment he felt just how badly Adam was shivering, an almost protective need washed over Hannibal. With a deep growl, he wrapped the younger man closely against his chest, and he pushed him beneath the warm water.

Adam emitted a gentle sigh of relief, and soon, he ceased shivering. When Hannibal leapt at him once again, he was this time more careful not to allow the other man’s skull to bash harshly against the wall. Wedging a hand protectively behind Adam’s head, he pressed himself further into Adam. At once, their interested, aroused cocks rubbed deliciously together. Hannibal panted and groaned out against Adam’s neck before he took to biting and sucking at it. The skin there stretched over muscle tasted and felt so good against his mouth. He took to gnawing at it with his sharp teeth, though he was careful never to break the skin. It was such beautiful, candescent skin, too…he couldn’t run the risk of ever seeing it marred.

Biting, kissing, and sucking his way around Adam’s cheeks towards his collarbone, Hannibal ground his thick, hard cock into Adam’s tight stomach in no time. He knew he was rutting and humping up against the younger man like a damn dog in heat, but he couldn’t help it. The moment his cock had slid almost too perfectly against Adam’s, Hannibal had to pause and wonder why the fuck he’d never slept with a man in his life before. No woman alive could bring him such pleasure, and for a moment, Hannibal entertained the notion that he wasn’t even a pansexual; he was more than likely homosexual.

Well, so be it. He much preferred men, anyway. He’d always been able to relate to them on a whole new level, and he had a small inkling that he’d possibly been opening up to the idea of sharing his entire life and world with a man when Alana had asked him whether she could ever be able to understand him…his answer had been a solid ‘no’, then, and if she were to ask the same quidditative question of him now, his reply would still be an equable ‘no’.

Perfect.

While he assaulted Adam’s upper torso with sensual bites and feverish kisses, Adam’s arms flailed a bit until his hands made their way into Hannibal’s white-blond hair, twisting and clutching and just holding on. It felt good to feel the other man’s fingernails scraping along his scalp, but it wasn’t enough…still.

Breaking contact reluctantly, Hannibal wasted no time in communicating without words what he needed and wanted so badly from Adam. Gripping his hand tightly in one of his own, he made it so that Adam cupped his erection under his guidance. Adam gasped softly, face reddening once he tried avoiding staring down at Hannibal’s cock.

Hoping the message was now loud and clear, Hannibal only nodded resolutely once at Adam before sliding a hand behind his neck. Seizing it tightly, he felt the muscles and bones there flexing and shifting. Adam’s body went rigid and stiff, as though he’d been carefully bracing himself for receiving pain from ‘Nigel’.

Silly boy.

It wasn’t pain or harm Hannibal was set on inflicting; it was pleasure. Carefully, he gentled his hold, but was insisting upon pushing Adam down before himself on his knees. Adam finally understood what was required of him, and he nodded back as the water pooled around him in thick puddles.

As sensual and erotic as it was, Hannibal was far too eager to feel a warm, plump pair of lips suckling him, and a tight mouth wrapped wetly around his cock, swallowing it whole. Adam sank lower and lower, and God, Hannibal was so close to feeling his breath panting against his thick cock. Oh, how he wanted to feel the young prat everywhere. Adrenaline raced through his veins, his heart pounded madly in his chest, and he wasn’t gentle about it at all as he pushed down firmly atop Adam’s crown. Abruptly, the younger male jerked his head back, eyes looking up to Hannibal in confusion.

While he sputtered up at him, gaping like a fish out of water, Hannibal spread his legs slightly, at least enough to make room for Adam.

There was urgency in this, but he didn’t wish to frighten the younger man; not when he had him right where he wanted him most. “Do it,” Hannibal willed gently, staring back at his partner, breath coming out in short, quick pants. “Just fucking do it.”

Nodding, Adam shifted so that instead of his knees hitting the floor, they were up and leaning to the side. Adam rested on the side of his left thigh instead, and Hannibal winced knowing the handsome young man was in slight pain and discomfort. He knew he should’ve addressed this, but Adam moved too quickly to grasp his aching, pyrexical cock in a hand. Quickly, the sensation of a much gentler hand on his length made Hannibal’s heart nearly implode in his chest as he looked at the lovely sight before himself.

_Adam Raki, a young man I want to get to know on a deeper level-Adam fucking Raki-a man I just may end up falling for-is on the shower floor on his fucking knees in front of me, and he looks as far gone as I’m feeling…_

This was sheer perfection; he wasn’t going to question and doubt it. Adam was perfect.

With slightly more confidence now, Adam reached up, pressing the heel of his palm against the front of Hannibal’s thick cock. Naturally, the move had drawn out a rewarding, deep growl of appreciation from Hannibal. Then, the man’s cock curved out to greet Adam’s touch, pressing against it, separated only by minor hesitancy and a matter of time.

Hannibal’s words and desperate pleas had now suddenly been stolen from him. His next two words never made it past his lips, but judging by how Adam paused long enough to eye him, their level of communication, their bond, it hadn’t been forgotten or lost. Words didn’t even need to be spoken, it seemed. There _was_ a connection here.

_Do it._

In a matter of moments, Adam bent his head to bestow a soft kiss onto Hannibal’s cock. The moment he had, the older male was completely undone. Previously, due to how much his cock had ached, Adam’s kisses now sent waves of relief throughout his lower torso. It was practically a blessing, and that blessing birthed new feelings pooling somewhere in the vicinity of his knees. Peering down, Hannibal saw that Adam was gently stroking him, but he’d moved his kisses from his cock over along his thighs.

Such a sensual lover…

Fighting back the urge to tear at Adam’s thick hair and grind his nose against his cock so they could get on with it, Hannibal merely enjoyed the sensation of Adam’s warm breath ghosting over his thighs and across the head of his cock. Adam panted, suddenly, and Hannibal gripped his shoulder too tightly. Lost to his sexual depravity, he couldn’t stand it anymore, and he yanked Adam forward by tugging on his hair like he’d originally been trying to avoid. As a result of the increase in roughness, Adam whimpered, still quite pusillanimous in his demeanor, and Hannibal’s hips strained forward. He felt sick in the pit of his stomach, sick from anxiousness and want and excitement, and he nearly went dizzy when Adam licked the palm of his own hand to add more ‘lube’ to his already soaked cock.

Feeling how wet he himself was, Hannibal peeked down below at Adam’s cock. Was he just as hard and just as wet?! He couldn’t tell much when Adam shifted and changed positions again. Now, only one new thought took over Hannibal’s brain entirely. This was really going to happen. Adam-beautiful, handsome Adam Raki was really going to touch him, and they were really going to do this.

As if ‘testing’ things, Adam neared his face before Hannibal’s thickness, and his tongue darted out. Experimentally, much like Hannibal thought he would, the youth delivered an almost serpentine lick from base to tip, and then lapped at the underside of Hannibal’s thick length.

“Fuck yes,” Hannibal breathed, eyes snapping shut so he could focus intently on the tongue lapping away at his dick. The sounds of the water beating down on them and gathering in larger puddles on the tiled floor soon disappeared, much to Hannibal’s pleasure. During any sexual encounter, sounds, odors, as well as his own vain imaginings had always contributed to a potent orgasm. Hannibal considered himself a most simple man when it came to this baser instinct lingering in all men and women. Rather than seeing whatever was going on, he much preferred listening and scenting. Right now, this was an ideal case for him.

Sure enough, the more he focused and zoned in his sharp, precise hearing powers, the better he was able to hear his cock literally fucking Adam’s mouth and throat. The young man didn’t gag, thankfully, for if he had, the moment would’ve been rather unpleasant. The last thing Hannibal wanted to hear was his partner choking on his dick. The sexier aspects about the situation however rang true and beautifully in his ears when he registered sounds of sucking, licking, tasting, sampling, humming, moaning, and cooing. It matched along quite well with the rhythm of his hard cock flying in and out of Adam’s mouth. Sliding, gliding, grazing past two lips perfectly hugged around his length…it was almost as though Adam’s perfect mouth had been prettily made and designed for such a purpose in the first place.

At such a notion thrumming about in his mind, Hannibal further surrendered to his perversion, and he gripped both sides of Adam’s face. Once his rougher, larger fingers journeyed over the youth’s cheekbones, he felt Adam’s mouth hollowing inwards. His cheeks were sunken in to form the perfect ‘o’ shape while he sucked Hannibal’s essence.

_Fuck, I didn’t think it was possible to expire because of sex, _the former psychiatrist mused in his mind.

But perhaps it was, and frankly, if it were indeed probable, Hannibal wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

However, as pleasantly and as wonderfully as Adam’s mouth was making him feel, Hannibal wasn’t too far gone or that selfish not to sense stiffness coursing through his partner’s upper body. Eyes opening immediately, Hannibal gazed down, wanting to identify the source. Once he’d located the ‘root’ cause of Adam’s discomfort, he wanted to eradicate it forever. As messed up as he was due to the aphrodisiac’s effects on his system and mind, he wasn’t that far gone not to notice Adam whining pitifully. He didn’t like that. Hannibal usually cared about the levels of pleasure his sexual partners experienced during sexual encounters. Not only would making someone else come bolster his ego and sexual prowess, but their orgasm was _his own_ impending orgasm.

And right about now, Hannibal was more so curious to actually touch Adam and see his cock closely.

Bracing himself up against the wall, he nudged Adam’s legs apart a tad forcefully. Adam didn’t cease sucking, thankfully, but he slowed down in his oral ministrations while gazing around at Hannibal’s feet.

Ever so grateful that Adam’s mouth was still sweetly working his dick, Hannibal leaned down slightly, and he sat himself down in a sitting position. Adjusting Adam’s head carefully onto his lap, he stretched his long legs before himself, and was mindful of Adam’s body. Cleverly, he pushed Adam’s knees apart, and to his astonishment, Adam was already busy working his own cock.

_Eager, aren’t we?_

Well…that wouldn’t last for too long. Hannibal took over, pushing Adam’s smaller hands out of the way while he draped his large right hand over Adam’s stiff cock jutting high in the air. Adam groaned immediately, and the vibrations coursed and ran through Hannibal’s already beyond-stiff cock. He was going to implode if Adam kept up with the moaning, but Hannibal didn’t want to stop. Wanting to touch more of his partner, Hannibal lightly thrust his hips up, snickering when Adam’s head bounced in his lap. Adam glared at him for it when a particularly deep, brutal thrust sent Hannibal’s thick cock halfway into the back of his throat.

Choosing to apologize through actions, a penitent Hannibal purred as he gingerly stroked Adam’s cock. He knew it would make him forget the minor incident, and he hadn’t been wrong in that assertion. Adam’s eyes snapped shut, and he lost himself to a deeper, louder round of moaning as Hannibal ran a thumb ran over his foreskin. Then, feeling emboldened by Adam’s breathy moans, an ardent Hannibal applied more pressure. When he replaced his thumb with his entire hand, Adam lurched forward, hands scrabbling to hold onto the thick calves of his older partner. His face turned beet red, and it was a shade Hannibal found to be quite pretty on Adam.

Bucking up, Adam moaned loudly as Hannibal used his whole hand to stroke the length of the younger man’s cock, nails scraping along the underside. Accidentally, Adam let his teeth just barely graze down the length of Hannibal’s cock. Though it hadn’t hurt at all, Hannibal felt more frightened and exhilarated by the odd sensation. It was so new to feel that. His hips canted forward, and he bit his lip hard. While Hannibal tried holding himself back, Adam remained dogged, his mouth sucking the tip of his lover’s cock in his mouth. Once a rhythm was established between them, Hannibal found it worked nicely.

He alternated the pressure with his hand while Adam sucked and swallowed his pre-cum. Enamored by the sexual dance, Hannibal then pulled back on Adam’s cock, twisting it gently at the end. Mimicking him, Adam stroked him as he sucked. Carefully watching him, Hannibal held a beat, only moving whenever Adam did. Exactly when it came to be that he’d allowed the younger man to lead was unknown to him, but Hannibal found he didn’t care. He stroked, and Adam sucked deeper, then moved forward again, sliding his mouth all along the line of his older lover’s shaft.

“Ohmygohhhhhhhhhhhdddd,” Hannibal thickly groaned, hands moving up to tangle in Adam’s hair again. When Adam whined, it was a reminder than he wanted to be touched, too. Hannibal obeyed, then did something with his hands to the spot between his partner’s cock and his balls. Fingers sliding deliciously, Hannibal experimentally prodded Adam’s perineum, causing Adam’s mouth to open and shut soundlessly around the tip of his leaking cock. The result was perfect on Hannibal’s body. If he were an electrical gadget the very first humans used to tinker about with, he would have short-circuited right then and there. Adam felt too damn good, and Hannibal loved that he was keen on emulating whatever Hannibal was doing to him.

_I suppose I am a good teacher, after all._

Knowing he was close, Hannibal’s head tipped to one side and every muscle in his face seemed to spasm; he couldn’t lift up his fucking head or close his mouth. In fact, all he seemed to be able to do was thrust himself further and further into Adam’s mouth. This was abruptly about to end too soon for him, but Hannibal didn’t want to mourn it all just yet. All in all, as long as he could still fuck Adam Raki’s warm mouth, Hannibal figured he was good to go.

Beneath him, Adam began to alternate using his mouth and his hands, pumping him a few times before taking Hannibal fully in his mouth, his lips covering his teeth as he moved down wetly and rapidly. Hips jerking frantically, Hannibal moved to meet him, grunting with abandon as he felt himself slip to the back of Adam’s throat. He had to screw his eyes shut when he felt Adam’s small fingers behind his balls, which was encouraging his own fingers to move back to press teasingly against Adam’s tight entrance, and then…

_Be gentle with him, Dr. Lecter._

Oh fuck…he was literally seeing Will Graham’s face behind closed eyes.

Biting down on his tongue, Hannibal reared up too powerfully. Eyes rolling back into his head, he froze for a moment before he felt his cock twitching. Hannibal had to cram a fist in his mouth to muffle his cries as he came, pulsing in Adam’s mouth. As Will Graham’s voice began to sound as though it were further and further away, Hannibal felt an odd tingling sensation tickling in the pit of his stomach. Adam cooed, chiming in here and there with odd noises. Still, he swiftly sucked and swallowed Hannibal’s semen down as Hannibal’s other hand began to slip out of his partner’s hair and run across his jaw to his cheek. And then it was all over. Hannibal was fucking spent but unable to collapse like he wanted.

His other hand was still wrapped around Adam’s cock, and since he had no strength left, Adam gripped his hand and used Hannibal’s limb to finish jerking himself off. Moaning in a high-pitched whine, Adam exploded and spilled all over Hannibal not even a second later. Moving himself out from the spray of water when he felt the stream pouring into his nostrils, Hannibal’s skin registered how cold and sticky Adam’s semen already felt. Too soon, it was drying and clinging onto him, and it infuriated him.

More upset and furious with himself for his lack of self-control exercised in this matter, Hannibal growled and shoved Adam off himself. He couldn’t even stand to have Adam looking at him, but he knew the young man certainly was.

Arms flailing and reaching out for him, Adam panted out weakly, “N-Nigel? What’s—”

Standing up quickly, Hannibal felt he could at least move without an annoying erection getting in his way. Now that he’d experienced all the orgasms his body apparently had been required to go through, he could think a little clearly. And when he thought about it all, he was absolutely enraged with himself. He was a disgusting disappointment, and there wasn’t anything else he could say or do to depurate all the misdeeds and wrongs. He could never right them; he could never deracinate the cause of all his burdens and demons.

Avoiding his own revolting reflection as he passed the mirror and standing shower glass, he didn’t even bother draping a towel over himself as he exited the steamy bathroom without even a glance back in Adam’s direction. He softly padded away, closing the door behind himself gently.

Adam was left there shivering on his side while the warm water rain. Slowly, he curled himself into a tight ball, drawing his knees up into his chest. Whimpering softly to himself, he began crying, gently at first, much like a young child who didn’t want to cause trouble and be stumbled upon in this state. Unable to contain it much after a moment, he started wailing once he realized just how alone his Nigel had made him feel.


	18. Constrained by Decorum

“I’m afraid I’ve betrayed you, Will.”

“Betrayal? Hmm, the term is somewhat foreign to me these days, Dr. Lecter.”

“I see. You don’t seem disappointed, then?”

“No. No compunctions from you and conflicting feelings complicant over your sudden indecisiveness actually please me, Dr. Lecter.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, but all I am certain of is that betrayal and falling in love are often said to be the same thing…”

He’d heard these words before, and as Hannibal sat before Will Graham in the evening glow of his dusty office, he shivered upon remembering Dr. Bedelia Du Maurier’s words, ever spoken in a didactic way by the doctiloquent woman.

_‘Betrayal and forgiveness are...best seen as something akin to falling in love.’_

Pondering that thought while the memory of Will Graham poured himself a steamy cup of Japanese green tea, the younger man purred. Behind his head mounted high on the wall happened to be a large mirror measuring half Will’s own body size and mass. The smooth glassy surface of the object reflected only Hannibal; a clear reminder that Will wasn’t even here, that this wasn’t even a part of the memories he’d stored back in the memory palace. It disburdened him to a minor degree knowing he was alone, but it also seemed less personal. His transgressions and woes of psychomachy would forever burden him, but for now, things seemed appeased in this hidden realm.

Spoon clinking against the china cup, everything about Will’s manner was effete; from his hair perfectly coiffed and slicked back, right down to his delicate slippers meant for bed. Well. The setting indeed called for the cozier apparel. It was slowly turning to nightfall in the current time span, and the entire office was dark save for the dim pot lights beaming down and the dancing flames emanating from the fireplace lingering on the other end of the office behind Hannibal’s large desk. Yet again on the desk’s smooth surface rested Will Graham’s patient file, but it remained half-open this time, and a single page filled to the top with fancy cursive handwriting faced the ceiling.

Hannibal didn’t particularly care about its contents; he was more than pleased speaking to Will and drinking with him their evening tea. The scent of the leaves flew up into the air generously, and Hannibal inhaled sharply. His superior scenes were alight, and as he inhaled deeper, his eyes closed slowly.

“Aahh,” he purred in glee and beauty, “moonlit scents! I’m ravenous, Will.”

The younger man raised a brow, clearly very unimpressed with the way the conversation had taken such an abrupt turn. “Prevaricating and closing off isn’t very wise, Dr. Lecter,” Will advised patiently, his deathly pale skin almost glowing in the rays of light seeping in through the partly closed blinds. “We don’t have much time here as it so happens, why waste it on foolish chatter and nonsense that doesn’t interest you nor I?”

As much of a strong point Will had, Hannibal didn’t want to humor him. He knew he was being avoidant, and he knew he’d retreated cowardly into his ‘private chambers’ before he mustered up the energy to go on. Their communication had started off strongly, but somewhere deep inside, Hannibal felt his confidence weakening at the remembrance of Bedelia’s words and thoughts surrounding notions of ‘love’ and ‘betrayal’. The last time he’d fallen in love, he’d been betrayed for almost two years. How could any man suffer through the same ordeal yet again?

Before Will could even say it, Hannibal beat him to it. Crossing a leg over the other and staring off to the darkest side of his office, he drawled deeply in a rumble, “We’ve both been guilty of betrayal, my dearest Will Graham, but this time, I’m certain my act of betrayal was only incidental…impulsive, if you wish to consider it as such.”

He’d only been successful in convincing himself of that; Will smirked and waved it off.

“I’m afraid it’s never that simple, Dr. Lecter,” he calmly explained, “I haven’t lost anything, and you haven’t gained anything. Where’s the trade off?”

Cluelessly, Hannibal blinked once, but it didn’t help clear away his doubts, worries, fears, or fleeting feelings. Will seemed to catch on, and his eyes brightened. Raising his head and neck, his smile continued to expand on his handsome face, and his long, dark brown eyelashes fluttered a few times. The air around him grew dusty and rather convoluted, but he remained a clear sight throughout it.

Pink lips pursed, he let out a tiny, faint whistle, and then moistened his lower lip by flicking his tongue out. Hannibal’s eyes itched and burned, but he refused to tear his tear his gaze away from the shadows. They enveloped majority of his mind and thoughts, creeping in like enchanting spirits. The molded presumptions weren’t welcome, and Hannibal didn’t want them taking control over the therapy session. He was feeling conflicted enough about young Adam Raki, where he fit in his life, what he was feeling for the youth, and how this all was slowly changing him at his core.

Hannibal despised change more than rude people. To be forcefully altered in such an endearing way was a fate worse than slowly suffocating to death. It had to be destroyed; the burning egency and feelings had to go away. As long as he could ‘nip it in the bud’, he was going to do so. Taking control before it was lost was easier than finding one’s way in the dark, stumbling like a blind fool. Before he was blinded by whatever his heart felt for Adam, he had to squash all the feelings.

Still gazing out past the windows, a rigid, obstinate Hannibal protested. “I digress, Will,” he began in his retort, sounding far more bitter than he originally intended to. “Accidents happen.”

Smiling almost puckishly, a borderline sadistic air appeared around Will all too soon. Eyes twinkling mischievously, he purred, “You don’t strike me as a man who makes many mistakes or finds himself a hapless victim of so many accidents, Dr. Lecter.”

“And?” the older man snapped, mood off the rails as he fixed his companion with a cold sneer. “I’ve just admitted to you that I betrayed you, but it shan’t happen ever again.”

Half nodding, Will asked, “Was it because he resembled me?”

Hannibal was stuck yet again. There was a hint of pride lingering behind Will’s words and tone. Almost as though he’d been boasting, he seemed far too ecstatic and pleased to go along with the notion that he’d won. He’d won over Hannibal’s affections, he was his obsession, his dream, his goal. That was his intended purpose, and that gave him superiority over the older psychiatrist. Knowing that it was the visage of Will Graham at the forefront of Hannibal’s mind and heart warmed the ghastly presence in the room significantly.

Glowing, Will exclaimed in glee, “You forget that I know everything that you dream up in your memory palace, and whatever your heart wishes to feast on.”

“There’s no need to brag,” Hannibal growled viciously, no longer holding back. “I’m not in love with the brat, I’ll have you know.”

…_Why did I make it sound as though I’m not confident in this fact?? It IS a fact, isn’t it?!_

Will appeared to be reading his thoughts. The longer his eyes scanned Hannibal’s face, the longer he took his time with analyzing him. The older male didn’t appreciate being on the other side of the table, nor did he appreciate the fact that Will was in fact studying and observing him closely.

Inching up slightly, he was quick to jab out, “What?”

As crude and ‘basic’ as it sounded to his own ears, Will didn’t appear to be ‘put off’ by it much. He only smirked as he commented, “Do you want my opinion, Dr. Lecter? Or my permission?”

A dull chill rose in the air, and Hannibal shriveled up. Tossing the question and options associated with it about in his brain, it didn’t take too long before he delved into thoughts of strangling himself and perhaps Adam. After all, this was all his fault!!

…Wasn’t it?

Ignoring that for a moment, the older man rasped, “Permission? And what would I need your permission for, Will?” Already, Hannibal suspected why he was being asked this question. He wasn’t a fool, nor was he a fool in love and betrayal. Will Graham for almost four years had been...the center of his entire universe. Hannibal hadn’t dreamt of anyone since losing Mischa, so when thoughts and dreams about the criminal profiler first visited him unconsciously, that was a clear enough sign for Hannibal. Bedelia called it an obsession, but she’d of course always been so crude in her ways. Perhaps she didn’t understand it, but Hannibal knew he was in love. Building a world and an entire realm around Will had made sense to him. Soon, it became a ritual; a habit to live, eat, breathe, and dream of Will Graham at his side for all eternity. It was something he often did when he grew to cherish and love another. His entire focus became that individual specifically, and this was a ‘regular’ thought process that came as easily to him as devouring a seductive, exotic feast.

Perhaps others could view it as an obsession, a compulsive need, or worse, as a mental illness growing and rising within. No longer caring, Hannibal felt that his internal woes had now taken quite the dramatic turn. Will Graham wasn’t his Will anymore; the lines were starting to blur once again. In fact, they became more defined and loomed on the opposing sides with each visit, it seemed.

Deciding to become more forthcoming with this recent piece of ‘news’, Hannibal peckishly glanced at Will. His love’s visage hovered between that of his own, and then shifted briefly until it practically melted and morphed into that of Adam Raki’s. Stomach twisting in knots, Hannibal sighed wearily. “Doesn’t it bother you?” he inquired painfully. “I could forget your face entirely, Will.”

The other man merely gazed on blankly before a satisfied smirk crossed over into his sharp, candescent eyes. Gently caressing his own smooth upper cheekbones, he purred softly, “I’m not Will Graham; your news doesn’t alarm me, Dr. Lecter.”

Mildly hurt, Hannibal mentally berated himself for his foolish forgetfulness and youthful ignorance. Momentarily blinded by his deep longing for Will Graham, he’d entirely forgotten that this wasn’t real...that Will was truly gone.

Craning his head down sadly in spite of the heavy smugness emanating from the other creature in the room, Hannibal forlornly heaved out in a malacophonous manner, “Do you suppose Will misses me as much as I miss him?”

The bizarre question even took the entity seated across from himself by complete surprise. Blinking back his astonied look, ‘Will’ allowed for the gradual ticking of the old clock in a dark corner of the office to act like a great metronome counting down the beats of the depressing, haunting ballade Hannibal had composed unknowingly. All the noises and sounds both inside and outside the office grew significantly in volume. Time had been exponentially suspended over their heads before the cruel, sharp blade of the pendulum slid and swung, cutting and slicing directly through all the tension and anxiety.

Sadly, it never seemed to be able to cut through Hannibal’s misery and grief. Time would never freeze around his tumultuous situations and efforts; it would all consume and drown him.

As a murder of crows swooped down by the nearest dead, fruitless tree outside the office, they hovered and perched in a thick black mass. Spreading their wings menacingly while peering in through the tinted windows, they worked to quickly transform into the shape outlining headless, obstreperous wendigo.

A sad little smile etched its way over ‘Will’s’ face, then. Chuckling once to himself, he paused before faintly whispering with mild difficulty present in the form of stuttering. “I...I th-think Will w-would be missing you, yes.”

Hanging on to the confirmation that his lingering feelings and burdens were in part returned, Hannibal curtly nodded. Perhaps he could-for the moment only-rely on that notion to get by in his new, sad, pathetic world. It was all he had, aside from blinding psychalgia. Shifting himself so he could rise gracefully from his seat, he carefully took measured steps, approaching the window steadily. Brushing the blinds to the side, a sinister, foul gleam formed in his eyes as he gazed along the top of the trees looming large above and beyond his world. There, standing magnificently on the horizon past his office was the enormous, giant-sized headless corpse of the skeletal, corvine wendigo.

(--~*~--)

Love and sex. The two sensations and experiences vastly differed, yet possibly weren’t entirely mutually exclusive. Worlds apart, yet oceans close. The latter had come rather bountifully in abundance within Hannibal’s life, but he couldn’t say ‘love’ truly had paid him a generous visit. Though he’d been gracious enough to partly display ‘loving’ and affectionate gestures towards all his lovers, he knew it’d never been love that he’d experienced with a single one.

The inveterate, jaded male didn’t particularly care about visions of love and romance while growing up. Pain and loss, he’d been no stranger to, so much that Hannibal often welcomed it into his life with open arms accepting and pleasant. Trouble, pain, suffering, and brutality were things he could handle with great pride...but not ‘love’. It could cut and wound him deeper than any mortal blade could, and if love was there for him, then there would be no way to escape unscathed. Those scars would run deep and last forever, always etching a permanent brand on his soul...if he had one.

So, he’d shut it out, and closed himself off to it for as long as he could. But Hannibal had been both careless and selfish, as of late, anyway. He knew he still hadn’t fully recovered from the burns and scars Will’s love had bestowed upon him and gifted him with, yet here he was, sitting back and entertaining ideas of romancing, wooing, and declaring fierce, undying love for Adam Raki. Yes, it became quite obvious that the importunate, self-indulgent man wanted the good of both these worlds. But for what purpose, he didn’t fully know or understand. He only knew that as each day passed and another began anew, he wanted to be with Adam even more.

Yes, Hannibal Lecter was very well frightened as much as he remained self-aware of his needs and imminent yearnings. He had no blind spots; he only had complete self-awareness. Perhaps his confidence had slipped, but instead of wanting to lash out, struggle, or make someone pay for it, Hannibal just felt it. He felt it go, and he didn’t care...it didn’t terrify him as he thought it would. No loss had been suffered; nothing had been gained either...except...

Love?

Was it really ‘love’?

Surely not...no...he was old enough to understand the difference between love and sex. He’d had sex multiple times with multiple women, and yet he’d never ‘loved’ them. He’d had sex with Alana Bloom, and Hannibal knew for certain he never felt love for her beyond that of a teacher and a student. The feelings were completely alien and foreign to him, so much that he felt dazed, sick, and confused to be experiencing and going through them now.

Why now?! Why now of all times?!

This had been the part of his life where he longed to be secure and alone in his misery, perhaps for the rest of his days, if he had to. Why let anyone in? Why cave under that pressure? He’d proudly been a solitary animal before and it’d never troubled him, previously. Was he going senile?! Had he become insane? Was he thoroughly exhausted?

Hannibal frankly didn’t know much. He wasn’t a fan of introspection and taking notes on his own life. For years, it’d always proven to be easier to turn the sharp-edged tool of observation powers onto others aside from himself. To look inward would hurt, and he expected nothing short of ugliness to be there looking back at him.

_‘Gaze long into the abyss, and it gazes right back.’_

Suddenly, a most foul, terrifying thought struck Hannibal deeply. Given his obsession with Will Graham and Abigail Hobbs, he knew he wasn’t entirely above using others to replace whatever he’d lost control over in his life. Will being the lost love of many years and decades ago, Abigail being the sister and daughter he wanted-yet never had in Mischa. They were all replacements without Hannibal realizing it for some time. Will had, however, but in the end, his loyalty won Hannibal over. Will possessed the same level of darkness Hannibal did, and he’d made peace with his demons. Unfortunately, it’d all been taken away too soon before they could make their world red and black in shades of love and lust.

Hannibal had lost, and he’d wanted very much to cut those losses and never look back. He’d in part been quite successful, at least until a young Adam Raki appeared in his life. Was it too late to blame the deceased Nigel Ibanescu? This was all his fault, Hannibal supposed. Without Nigel, there would be no Adam, and without Adam, Hannibal wouldn’t be in as much pain and torment as he was currently.

But it was too late. He’d already built the hellish bridge connecting William and Adam together, and foolishly, while all the ties and associations ran amok in his mind festering cruelly, he’d walked along the rickety bridge. Though there remained uncertainty, doubt, fear, as well as a high amount of the ‘indescribable’, he’d already paved his own path, and he’d accepted the way.

What a perilous journey, indeed. It was a journey he couldn’t prevent, nor could he escape from it. The only way was forward, and Hannibal held many serious questions and regrets swimming about in his dark mind. He regretted not getting to know Will more when he had the chance. He regretted not meeting Adam much earlier, even though he knew that was something odd and improbable to be upset over. More than anything, he even regretted and resented Nigel for having many ‘firsts’ with young Adam Raki. One of those firsts had of course been Adam’s sexual awakening, something which Hannibal loathed to admit that had grown on him as a curious illness of sorts. It festered and welled up in the back of his mind, weighing heavily like a useless tumor. It called out to him more often around the dull, aching silence of the night, and he truly didn’t know how to remove himself from it.

Aside from the painfully frustrating notion that Adam had given his heart, trust, and sexual innocence to Nigel Ibanescu-one of the least deserving men in the planet-Hannibal was more than certain that they’d been madly passionate about one another and very much in love. Whatever Hannibal had hoped to develop and share with Will Graham, Nigel Ibanescu and Adam Raki had experienced and lived it for some time. Needless to say, the former therapist was beside himself with a burning fury and jealousy he hadn’t experienced in many years. Knowing fully well what it felt like, what he wasn’t so certain of was ‘why’ it remained there in the pit of his stomach surging up. Logically, he had no right and no business poking around in someone else’s love life. He wasn’t even that connected with Nigel before, so why did it matter much that he’d been with someone Hannibal was curious about growing closer with?

The past had to remain in the past, which wasn’t usually a difficult feat for Hannibal…until recently. He’d always been able to separate past from present, while not entirely looking for the future. Unfortunately, all of that had disappeared as of late, and Hannibal began hating Nigel, as well as himself far too deeply and passionately.

Yes…he was obsessed, and this time, it’d been impossible to deny and avoid. There was no controlling it either; it all came rushing on like the strongest ocean tide. And it swept Hannibal right up, tossing him back and forth along the hungry sea. All his stern residual feelings in terms of keeping himself distant from Adam Raki sucked and dragged him down into a self-perpetuated pit of fiery disappointment. His pride was slowly decimated and eradicated completely, and Hannibal cleverly sensed that it wouldn’t take much longer for his self-control to go, next.

Who was Adam Raki?! Who was this oddball of a young thing Hannibal had stumbled upon without so much preparation? How? How was it possible that he’d taken Hannibal in, reeled forth his interest, and then spat him back out so potently that it’d rendered the older male weak, dizzy, and beyond dazed?! Hannibal was confused, he was delirious, and there wasn’t much he could do about it. The only thing he knew was that he wanted and needed to seek Adam and his mansuetude out, but a part of himself still felt deeply wounded. In some odd way, he felt as though he’d been betraying Will, and Hannibal was unable to accept that. Betrayal cut deeply, and he didn’t enjoy being the cause of it. He had to make amends somehow, but first and foremost, he decided to move forth with growing closer to Adam.

But this wasn’t going to be a psychological ‘case study’ of sorts; this was going to be Hannibal gaining more in-depth knowledge for the purposes of obtaining this young man as a partner. That was what he’d set his heart on and hoped for, and Hannibal vowed to at least make the efforts that would hopefully ease the burdens of his surging and burning pain.

Grief. Weakness. Desire.

What a messy bundle, indeed.

But that wasn’t the worst of it. What pained Hannibal more than a fatal wound to the gut or the heart was the fact that for a few days on end, Adam seemed to insist upon shutting him out. The stubborn youth had now taken his turn sequestering himself in his hovel of an apartment, and he used the walls of his cozy little abode relatively well to keep Hannibal out. Convinced he’d been dreaming, Hannibal tried making his way past Adam’s well-guarded fortress, at first only assuming this was a misunderstanding of sorts. However, Adam’s door always remained firmly bolted, locked, and tightly shut in his face.

He still didn’t wish to accept that message.

Naturally, Hannibal then assumed that either Beth or Harlan had intervened, presenting their arguments quite convincingly for young, innocent Adam to buy into. The poor fool. He needed ‘saving’, at the very least.

Determined to do just that when at least an hour of knocking on and waiting by Adam’s front door proved fruitless and futile, Hannibal reluctantly ambled over to Beth’s door. Collecting his semi-lost and wounded pride in whatever way he could, Hannibal grumpily tapped on her door and was admitted inside her apartment all by himself. He never thought he’d have to return here again, and it hurt his ego to do so, especially alone. He supposed he looked ever so pathetic in Beth’s eyes.

Standing and leaning against her fridge while she baked two dozen cookies and an enormous pie for reasons that truly escaped Hannibal since he hadn’t asked, nor had he cared enough to inquire in the first place, he could only stew in silence while Beth scolded him. Wagging her fingers at him as though he were a naughty child who’d stolen a treat from her, she furrowed her thin, dark brown eyebrows while shaking her head at him. Her ponytail swished back and forth while she set the timer onto her counter next to the oven. Turning it on to the highest temperature, she then fished out her pink oven mitts, setting them down next to her mixed batter resting in a bowl.

Hannibal rolled his eyes at her, causing her to snap at him.

“You came to _me_ for advice, Nigel,” she snippily reminded him, “the least you could do is maybe _not_ huff and puff, show attitude, and pretend to be listening.” Slamming her dirty bowl down close to a tray for cookies, she glared his way, causing Hannibal to glare resolutely back.

“I’m not doing any of those, fuck sakes, Beth!” Throwing around attitude he hoped would bequeath Nigel Ibanescu, he found Beth to be quite hostile in her actions. She was slamming spoons and mixers about, bashing cupboard doors shut with much force, and she shoved her way around the kitchen mightily.

Tilting his head at her, Hannibal couldn’t help but grin before chiming in with, “I think it’s adorably stupid how mad you are about it, Beth.”

That earned him a knee to the thigh, and Hannibal winced in mild pain as Beth gripped him by the hips, and then shoved him away from her fridge. “Move out of my way, Nigel,” she spat as she opened the fridge door and brought out the remaining eggs from their carton. Lining them up next to the bowl, she grabbed one, and cracked it against the rim.

Watching in silence, Hannibal thought about a small insult to toss her way. He couldn’t help but want to poke fun at Beth as a means of squashing and hiding from his own inner turmoil. Pointing at the second egg she’d bashed on the rim of her bowl, he chuckled, “I bet you are standing there wishing that is my head you’re cracking open, right Beth?”

She only glared harder at him, but then carried away with her work. “Sometimes, I really _do_ wonder why Adam’s with you, Nigel.” Grabbing another egg, she sighed, “You’re totally not the right person for him, and even Harlan believes it.”

Sniffing once, Hannibal retorted with, “It’s Adam’s choice, I believe, ergo, none of your damn business, Beth.”

Shifting back before the fridge, Hannibal hardly had time to lean against it, when Beth reached next to him and swiped the baking soda off the counter. When she moved, the ends of her long ponytail swished into Hannibal’s face. Her hair slapped him across the nose, and he frowned heatedly at her while rubbing his sensitive nostrils. He hated her fruity scent…

“I believe it _is_ my damn business when my best friend is crying night after night because of _you_!!” Raising her hand, she poured in the baking soda rather aggressively, and it sprayed along over her apron.

Spitting some of it out once it flew up onto her chin and lower lip, she scowled and fanned herself. “The point is, Nigel, you’re not that great of a boyfriend!!” Her opposite hand gripped the egg it was currently holding far too tightly, and it cracked under the pressure. Beth’s only response to that was a short scream of anguish before she tossed the wasted egg into the compost bin.

Noticing her rueful wastefulness, Hannibal slyly scoffed, “I doubt Adam feels that way.”

Beth shook her head stubbornly while fetching a new egg. “I promise you, even if he isn’t saying anything about it, that doesn’t mean he’s not unsatisfied!”

Frowning deeply, Hannibal commented, “It certainly didn’t seem that way when we were together intimately for hours on end in the bedroom and the shower…”

The way he’d spoken this out so mysteriously and seductively caused Beth to turn pale. Her neck went stiff, followed by her shoulders bunching up rigidly. Eyes blown open wide, it didn’t long for her skin to then flush deep pink. Turning almost robotically towards him, she shrieked strenuously, “Not everything’s about sex, you depraved—” As she’d been in the middle of her boisterous, mordacious screams, her claw-like fingers hooked into the fresh egg she’d held onto, and it splattered and cracked completely like its predecessor.

Gaping down at it, Beth screamed in fright, waving her yolk covered hand about in the air. Face scrunching up in pure disgust, she reached for a paper towel, only to find one already presented to her right under her nose.

Hannibal sighed as he weakly held up the paper towel. “You may not believe me when I say that to hear of Adam in pain or crying breaks my heart, but it’s true.” Standing back when she swiped the paper towel out of his hands and cleaned her limbs properly with it, Hannibal truly felt he meant his words. He didn’t enjoy hearing back that he’d been the root cause and source of Adam’s suffering. But he was still too deeply entrenched in his fears and personal woes to solve the issue right away as effectively as he should have.

Tossing the sullied paper towel down into the trash can while mussitating to herself, Beth flung her ponytail over her shoulders and then pushed back loose tendrils of hair that escaped the confines of her tight hair scrunchie. Eyes narrowed at Hannibal, she appeared to be regulating her breathing as best as she could, no doubt trying to remain calm throughout all this.

She apparently had enough of looking at him, then, so she shut her eyes. Counting to ‘three’ under her breath, she later opened her doe-like eyes and peered at her cookie trays. Next, she reached for her scooper, carefully rolling up some dough within the deep spoon to fashion and place it onto the flat tray.

“Look, Nigel,” she began in her stern, maternal like tone Hannibal despised. Rolling the cookie into the perfect shape, she placed it in the center of the tray, eyeing the temperature of the oven on the digital display. Everything was suddenly so warm, but Hannibal felt on his end that it had more to do with heat rising off his cheeks in embarrassment.

Usually, other people had come to him seeking out help in tumultuous, calamitous times during marriages, divorces, issues with parenting, or other deep-seated social problems. He’d always been on the receiving end of listening to their sorrows and woes, never once dreaming up the possibility that one day, he would be in their place. However, that day had arrived, and as much as Hannibal resented himself for seeking Beth’s words out, he felt he’d made a better choice given his limited options. He personally didn’t want to deal with Harlan ever again after what’d happened last time.

Stacking the cookies neatly row by row, line by line, Beth worked silently until the entire surface of her tray was covered with her oatmeal cookies. Moving back, she opened the oven door, and at once, a fresh burst of heat slammed into Hannibal.

Too warm…

Shoving the tray in carefully, Beth continued in exhaustion, “Adam’s pretty young, still, and you have to understand that this is his first s_erious, real _relationship!!”

Muttering in boredom, Hannibal pressed out, “Believe me, I figured that out all on my own, Beth.” The tedium was starting to wear him down, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could conceal it from her. Was she going to continue wasting his time with information he already knew? For how much longer was she going to disguise her bland, insipid ‘advice’ as sagacious, sapient words of wisdom??

Scraping more of the cookie dough from the bowl and stacking it onto the next tray, Beth snapped irritably, “In spite of the age-gap, Harlan and I were willing to support you two, because we saw how patient you were with Adam, and we admired that. He’s not someone many people would be quick to date, but you were willing to see past that.”

_Nigel was, and now, perhaps I am, too._

Silently, Hannibal nodded, indicative that she should continue.

Sweat formed along Beth’s forehead, more than likely due to the heat rising steadily in the kitchen. Her eyes narrowed while she focused, her hands and fingers moving about in precision as she crafted the cookies marvelously. There was art in how she aligned and decorated these new cookies, dripping over them sprinkles and tiny sugars Hannibal hadn’t seen outside of a pastry shop in ages.

Still, that didn’t do much to decrease his self-awareness, which told him that he was knee-deep in this mess, and Beth was still on his ‘case’ ready to deliver her own verbal ‘lashings’.

Tongue clicking against her teeth, Beth rebuked, “No one here has ever had experience around an age-gap couple, I’ll admit, but if you’re using Adam for sex, Nigel, then so help me, I’ll—”

Derisively, Hannibal interrupted aggressively. “That’s _not_ what’s going on here; never was. I will admit, I _may_ have gone overboard with Adam for a few nights, but that was only because I’d been drugged with a damn aphrodisiac!”

Beth let out a high-pitched, terrified scream upon hearing this. Her cookie dough covered hands flew up to her ears, trying to slam down on them in time, but it was too late. Nose scrunching up in disdain, a raw moue of utter disgust took over majority of her lovely face. Twisting and morphing herself about, she wailed, “Nigel!! What the fu—” Stopping herself abruptly, she held out her hands before herself. “No, let’s _not_ go there right now!!”

Blinking at her in confusion, Hannibal hissed, “I’m sorry if I took you by surprise, but I—”

“Ugh,” Beth cut in angrily, “I thought you told me that your life of crime and _colorful activities_ was a thing of the past, Nigel!!!”

Yes, Hannibal supposed that once upon a time, Nigel had indeed promised this conformative deed to Beth, Harlan, and Adam himself. But those were forms of blandiloquence, empty promises, and experiences Hannibal himself hadn’t ever experienced. He still had a long, long way to go as far as ‘uncovering’ all the truths went, and he hated that time would determine which pieces of the odd puzzle would be handed to him.

Torture. Pain. Mystery.

Weakly, he could only offer Beth a small shrug when she’d been gaping at him for far longer than what he felt he could tolerate. “Shit happens, Beth, what was I supposed to do?”

Sputtering in wild disbelief, Beth wiped her hands on her apron, and then quickly advanced on Hannibal. Shoving him flatly against the door of her fridge, she jabbed one of her cookie dough fingers in his face, nearly making him retch due to how sugary and sweet it smelled. “I’ve _always_ told you, Nigel,” she roared from the top of her lungs, face turning beet red, “if you want to land yourself in trouble, that would be fine and peachy…_if_ you were single!! The problem is, you’re _not_; you’re with Adam, and he wishes to be a part of your life, for whatever reason I won’t even try to understand because it’ll just end up flustering me and confusing me for the rest of the week!!”

Stomping her foot down by his, she hissed, “You can’t be selfish anymore!! You can’t be careless, reckless, thoughtless, and an idiot! You have to think about Adam, and how your actions and choices will affect him!!”

Knowing she had a genuine point, Hannibal’s mouth shut tightly, lips pursed in a thin line. What argument could he present, now?! He’d been selfish in every way, just the same as Nigel. Where Nigel had been selfish, was that he’d somehow landed himself in trouble, which ended in his untimely demise.

_The son of a bitch left Adam behind in all this…was he even thinking about Adam before he ended up in the hospital? Was he foolishly chasing something or someone else? _

Perhaps he would never know, but more than anything, perhaps it wasn’t for him to know and understand…yet.

When Hannibal had remained silent in his rumination, Beth shoved the second tray of cookies into the oven. Setting the timer on for twenty minutes, she undid the knot of her apron before shrugging it off.

“You should really think, Nigel,” she huffed at him while bunching up the apron into her hands. “That is, _if_ you can, anyway.”

Too tired and too frustrated to argue with her, Hannibal barely managed to hold himself together before collapsing against her cold fridge. Everything had all too quickly swam by him without Hannibal having a chance to even try and piece it together from start to finish. It always seemed like life was flitting by him in this manner, especially as of late.

Nudging him aside, Beth softly urged, “Now, you _really_ need to get going, Nigel, because I’m hosting an all-women’s party in another hour, and unless you want to be around a bunch of chatting, divorced women reaching middle age, then I suggest you scoot!!”

Not at all desiring to be among a bunch of clucking, gossiping hens, Beth’s warning served its purpose more than enough to ensure that Hannibal fled from her apartment just as quickly as he’d entered it. Along the way back to his own dreary abode, the gears of his mind were working, as Hannibal knew the time was slowly approaching where he would have to make an ultimate decision.

Something had to be done about Adam Raki.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beth and Hannibal/Nigel seriously make me chuckle at times ;)


	19. Unforeseen Gift

Adam wanted Nigel, so it seemed. As painful as that concept was in the broad terms of Hannibal attempting to disimmure and disillude himself, it dawned significantly on Hannibal the same night he returned to his own apartment after having a chat with Beth. Majorly miffed, Hannibal stewed and seethed in his solitude once he realized that Adam Raki still assumed he was Nigel Ibanescu, his deceased lover. The only reason Hannibal and Adam had grown so close in the first place _was_ because of that damn, foul man. Hannibal grew to resent his half-sibling even more so now, than when he was alive, and he had no idea how this was even possible. He just recognized the same old feelings of disgust, hatred, contempt, and ignominy normally reserved over the years for dullard patients who took up far too much of his time. Once again, the vile notions he entertained regarding his enemies had surfaced.

His past had returned to him as he recalled despising the insufferable Jack Crawford, the nuisance of a pest Freddie Lounds, the insane bastard Mason Verger, the maniacal Francis Dolarhyde, as well as the beast of his own internal suffering and treachery so ferociously and intensely that it’d rendered Hannibal weak in the knees and dizzy in the head simply pondering it all.

Yes, it was the same level of hatred and fear he felt for Nigel Ibanescu, but also for himself. It seemed this sword was indeed double-edged, as much as Hannibal didn’t want it to be. Nigel had been more popular, of course. With women, and so it seemed with the one and only young man Hannibal truly desired more than life itself. Nigel had swooped in and swept Adam off his feet, taking place in his life and sharing many ‘firsts’ with the youth as Hannibal had originally noted mentally.

And what did he have? A broken heart still oozing blood, engouement felt for a long-lost lover, as well as plenty of nightmares void of any warmth. He was left alone with bloodlust serving as a mockery of a conatus, and feelings of self-loathing potent enough to want to destroy and totally annihilate himself.

He was nothing and no one. That’s all he would ever amount to, and he could remain in his land of ignorance and foolish hopes while wishing all day long for the day where Adam would look at him and cry his name out. Yet, that day would never arrive. Adam saw Nigel in Hannibal, and that was the way it was always going to be. To try and teach the strange young man about the truth would be a step closer to suicide. Adam wouldn’t be able to handle it well, and that would be the end of Hannibal’s closeness with the youth he wanted so much. He knew he couldn’t dare put Adam through any pain and anguish, ipso facto, he knew he had to continue with his act of dissimulating who he really was while lurking in Nigel’s shadow.

Such a life. He’d only just barely escaped from the cold, cruel life of hiding behind closed doors and locked windows that’d kept him from his beloved Will Graham, only to have the profiler with the golden mind taken away from him in the blink of an eye. Was this to be his permanent fate? His consistent journey?

Perhaps Hannibal would never be able to see the pyrexical light…perhaps it was time to consider the possibility that for Adam to have his Nigel day and night by his side like an adorning, dedicated fan with utmost loyalty, perhaps Hannibal had to ‘create’ Nigel…

….

Maybe…

For now, Hannibal knew he had bigger fish to fry, and a lot more on his plate. The first of which involved getting Adam to talk to him again. As it so happened, the next day, Adam was still adamant on ignoring Hannibal. Ruefully, Hannibal forced himself to understand why, but he knew that deep down, he wasn’t willing to give up on his quest of wooing and seducing Adam. The task certainly wasn’t made an easier due to how stubborn Adam was being, but Hannibal found himself growing rather fond of Adam for this particular reason. He enjoyed a challenge, and despite how frustrated he felt at times because of Adam’s walls and high guards posted up, he was quite amused. He hadn’t expected for Adam to be putting up such a fight…

Interesting.

But, as interesting as it was, Hannibal could still feel disdain and cynicism when he was made aware of Adam’s inherent desires. Adam would always yearn after Nigel Ibanescu, and that alone made Hannibal want to roll his eyes to the high skies at the sententious fact. No matter what, it seemed that Nigel would always remain the cynosure, and there wasn’t much Hannibal could do.

Deciding then that the best way to try and win Adam’s heart would be to become Nigel even more so than ever before, Hannibal got to work adjusting his appearance. He allowed for his hair to grow shabbier and crazier, shifting and shaping it with the aid of his hands so it looked even messier than usual. Throwing out his hair gel just so he’d never run the temptation to use it again, Hannibal also shaved his thick, long stubble, vowing not to allow it to grow too much. The shorter it was, the better, but he knew he had to put up with feeling the roughness of his own cheeks whenever he grazed his palms along his skin.

This was indeed new, but altogether, he couldn’t say it was ‘bad’ or even ‘negative’. As long as it worked towards grabbing Adam’s interest and bringing them closer together, then Hannibal could try. Adam was worth it, and nothing was going to deter and disparage him from his ardent, carnal quest.

….

Well, aside from Adam Raki himself, anyway. There was no doubt at all that the oddball of a young man’s actions lately had been scathing, oragious and quite irreverent, to say the least. The doors were still shut tightly on Hannibal, and the older man knew he had to double his efforts if he wanted Adam’s attention. A more paregoric approach would garner the best results, no doubt, and Hannibal yearned for positive results.

He certainly needed and wanted to be closer to Adam, at the very least, and that had been motivation enough for Hannibal to hound Adam relentlessly. Knowing that Adam was at work that following Wednesday afternoon, Hannibal set out in the middle of a heavy, violent thunderstorm across the street to a fancy new nursery that had opened not too long ago. The flowers there had been relatively spectacular, to say the least. Since he was one of the first customers for the week, he was lucky enough to be awarded with a plant for free, as well as the first purchase at half price. His first selection happened to be Dicentra Spectabilis, or otherwise known as Bleeding Hearts due to their long arching stems that drip delicate heart shaped flowers in pink and white. Though Adam didn’t seem to keep a garden, Hannibal thought the plants would make a wonderful addition to the beginnings of one, and he hoped the young man would try to grow interested in keeping and maintaining a garden now that he had lovely plants.

The second plant Hannibal chose for Adam were Anthuriums-also known as flamingo plants. He chose all three [Anthurium](https://www.gardenista.com/posts/anthuriums-rethinking-a-hotel-lobby-flower/)s that came in a bundle of red, white, pink as the embodiment of luxury. The waxy blooms were made up of a heart-shaped spathe- a kind of modified leaf that surrounded a flower cluster—and a distinctly phallic central spadix. Among the other plants which were all mostly orchids and other heart-shaped plants, Hannibal didn’t find anything else worthy of his Adam’s tastes. He agreed to himself that Adam deserved the best, and this would all suffice for now.

Soon after making and completing his purchases, Hannibal carefully carried the new plants back to his apartment. There, once his turgid journey was complete, he wrote a small note apologizing to Adam for mistreating him. The note came with a loving card attached to the plant pots, and it was a proper tool which Hannibal used and exploited to his benefit quite well. Though he truly felt that the sappy image of a cat and a dog nuzzling each other was far beyond necessary and cheesy for Adam, he wasn’t one to shop around for another card. He’d never had to go card shopping for any other romantic ordeal, and for now, as clueless was he was, his main aim was to try and rectify things with Adam. Hopefully, amelioration wasn’t entirely out the window of possibilities, but Hannibal knew he had to exercise extra caution before proceeding forth.

His boots squelched obnoxiously along the floors of the apartment steps as he made his way up to the level his apartment was located on. Shaking off the rain and filth from his hair as best as he could, he paced back and forth a few times in his hallway while trying to compose an apology he hoped wasn’t as big of a failure as he suspected. Unfortunately, nothing he prepared seemed to flow, and it all came out quite sloppy.

Would Adam accept his words? Would it all be taken to heart? Was he wasting time? Would Adam throw his apology back at him? Was he squandering his feelings and emotions?!

Only blanks came to his mind, which infuriated Hannibal beyond description value. He was livid and about to boil over in his violent anger, but it was foolish and pointless in the end. Logic stated that the only way to determine whether Adam would appreciate his efforts or not, would be to stand by and observe everything. Adam’s reaction would prove if he needed to put more of an emotional effort to win the young man’s heart, needless to say, and that was all he had to work with.

Peeking at his disheveled appearance once in a mirror, Hannibal really held himself back from punching viciously into the glass bearing his own reflection. Once again, with his silver-blonde bangs hanging in his eyes, he found himself gazing at Nigel Ibanescu more and more by the damn hour.

…He smelled like a wet mutt, too…

“Fuck it,” he puffed out against the cool glass as he cradled the flowerpots to his chest. Reluctantly, as he made his way out of his apartment and further into the hall, he hoped he could at least find time to chat with Adam. Deciding it was better to try and fail than to not try in the first place, he kicked his door shut tightly and briskly walked down to Adam’s apartment. 

Head hanging low in submission, his lips moved while he formed his apology and ran through it one last time before presenting it to Adam.

“I’m so sorry for hurting you, Adam. I was wrong, and I know I have been very wrong in my actions for some time. I don’t know how I can prove to you how deeply sorry I am, but—”

Suddenly, his feet stopped moving. Hannibal’s ears caught a deep, yet familiar voice ringing clear in the air. Unbeknownst to himself, his blood started boiling and racing through his veins uncontrollably, burning ferociously hot like lava. He trembled, and his lips curled back enough to give him a rather feral appearance. Eyes turning murderous and dark, he stiffened, muscles going rigid from top to bottom, and bones locked firmly into place. He was but a pillar of unmitigated anger ready to explode in mere seconds.

….

_Wind him up, watch him go…_

Adam was indeed home as he’d always been after lunch, but this time, he wasn’t alone. However, instead of it being Beth or Harlan there in the hall standing before Adam’s door, the nasty individual who’d decided to drop by for a chat and visit was none other than Craig Donavan.

Why was this man here?! Did he _need_ to really be here?! How long had he been here in the first place? What did he want from Adam?!

…And _why_ was Adam smiling at him, standing in the open, brightly lit doorway while flashing his white teeth at Craig like a pavid young thing so inexperienced?!?

Boldly, with all the raw anger in the world helping and backing him up, Hannibal stormed over to the door. Stomping loudly the rest of the way to close the distance between Craig and Adam, he offered Craig a profoundly deep, dark glare. Dispiteous eyes narrowing minaciously, Hannibal clutched at the plants with one hand, and with the opposite, he gripped Adam’s door. 

Since Hannibal had last seen him, Craig seemed to have grown his hair out. Now, it covered his entire skull in a light fuzz, encompassing his once-shiny, shaven head. Glancing back at Hannibal thickly, he crossed his arms over his chest and stood aggressively.

Eyes sweeping down from his head to his toes, a putrid look and paroxysm of disgust overcame Hannibal almost voluntarily. Craig was wearing dark mesh shorts that hugged his toned thighs, black running shoes, and a white t-shirt. He wore a few cheap dog tags that hung from his thick neck, and his slightly hooked nose seemed to turn up snobbishly at Hannibal.

Nodding up at him, a distrait Craig huffed arrogantly, “Sup, Nigel?”

Slightly taken aback by the mordacious, rude way of a greeting, Hannibal paused for half a minute just to get his thoughts together coherently. He would only reply when he had the best response for this man, and a ‘calm’ one. There was no need to be reduced to a stammering, balbutient state; he just had to be clear and succinct in communicating how he felt about the discommodious situation.

….

“The fuck do you want with Adam?!”

….

Okay, that hadn’t been the wisest way to start the conversation, granted. Well enough, he knew he should’ve toned it down a lot. Adam winced, Craig’s thin, pale eyebrows flew up, but both men otherwise remained utterly silent. It was practically impossible not to experience cacaesthesia as well as impending doom when Craig was near, unfortunately.

Unable to withstand Adam’s inquisitive gaze any longer, he growled as he rounded on the shorter, younger man in all his bewilderment. Temper flaring beyond control, Hannibal hissed, “What were you two talking about?!”

Shaking his head, Craig emitted a wistful sigh before replying. “Calm down, Nigel; Adam left his workplace early, so I didn’t get the chance to say ‘hi’ to him like I usually do.”

Sneering derisively, Hannibal testily retorted, “And you thought it was a great idea to then pop on over and chat, huh?”

Adam swiftly chimed in, meracious anger and resentment coloring his tone. “He was concerned about my health!!”

“How fucking thoughtful of him, then,” Hannibal smarmily muttered, his self-satisfied smirk doing much to bewray his true feelings. “Well, Craig,” looming over the man in question, he boldly stated, “now that you’ve seen for yourself that Adam is fine, mind pissing off?!”

Nudging him, Adam hissed in a warning, his calm veneer shattering to reveal his bewilderment. “That’s so rude, Nigel! He’s not doing anything wrong!”

Raking his eyes heavenward, Nigel sighed painfully. “Oh, yes, Craig standing here blatantly ignoring the fact that you’re seeing someone definitely constitutes as ‘doing nothing wrong’. Accurate fucking statement, Adam.”

For every curse word that sprang out of his mouth, Adam would flinch as though he’d been hit brutally. This struck Hannibal harshly, but until Craig removed his presence from Adam’s door, the former psychiatrist knew he wouldn’t be able to ‘calm down’. Even if the situation begged for it, he just couldn’t compose himself any longer.

Craig’s inquisitive eyes roamed over Hannibal’s frame, and then at the colorful plants he’d still held onto in his left hand. Sniffing for a quick second, Craig pointed crudely at the items. “Seems I’ve interrupted something cute, huh?”

As if only just then realizing ‘Nigel’ had arrived bearing a few gifts, Adam gasped in awe. His own wide eyes roved through the plants, and he flushed soft pink. “Nigel!! Are th-those for m-me??”

Sarcasm oozing and dripping heavily, Hannibal reproached deeply, “Well, it’s certainly not for your pal Craig here, is it?”

Nostrils flaring for a moment, Craig’s lips twitched in irritation. His skin turned pink, and he was practically starting to sweat right before their eyes. Right when Hannibal was so certain that the other man would lash out at him, Craig surprised him. Coolly, he brushed off his clothes, and leaned casually against the door frame. While Adam was busy gaping ardently at the lovely arrangement of flowers, Craig grinned in a sinister, standoffish manner at the unsuspecting youth. It was the look of malice and ill-intent, and Hannibal recognized it all too well. This was a man planning something; the gears in his convoluted mind were turning, and whatever he was thinking of likely involved Adam.

Poor Adam…_his_ Adam…

Anger doubling exponentially, Hannibal ground out moodily, “Do you know how to take a fucking hint, Craig?”

An innocent look suddenly appeared in Craig’s eyes upon hearing such a snappy question. Blinking quickly, he commented, “A hint? Hmm?”

“Yes, a _hint_,” Hannibal snapped ferociously, patience tested greatly in such a short span of time. “You’re _not_ that daft, I’m sure, and you can see that you’re _not_ wanted and needed here, so get lost!!”

Not quite backing down, Craig blurted in opposition, “I’m not really doing anything, like Adam said to you, Nigel, so why don’t you—”

At once, Hannibal completely lost it. Face mildly flushed as his heart raced deeply in his chest, he snarled in venom, “I _don’t_ want you talking to Adam anymore. Got it?!?”

Sputtering in shock, Adam’s eyes broke away from the plants, and he gently tugged on Hannibal’s wet shirt. Eagerly trying to get his attention, he whined, “Nigel!! Don’t say these horrible things!! Don’t be mean to my friends!!”

Extending a hand openly before Hannibal, Craig intoned waspishly, “Why don’t we let Adam make his own decisions? He’s a grown adult, right Nigel?”

Narrowing his eyes into death-like daggers, Hannibal curtly snapped, “The hell does that mean?”

Humming pleasantly in the oddity of the tumultuous situation, Craig eventually sighed out, “Maybe you need to stop controlling Adam? Try that for a change?”

….

It all spiraled out of control far too quickly, before Hannibal could even comprehend what’d occurred. Blinded by raw, unmitigated vitriol and rage unlike anything he’d ever experienced in over a year, undiluted fury channeled and coursed through his veins. It all flowed so freely, then, it burnt sharply at his core, and bubbled right over the top. Fist bunching up, a disgusted expression formed on his face, though it was no match at all for how he felt internally. A deep, disgruntled noise escaped him, and without a second spared, his clenched fist flew forward through cold air. Knuckle met with the bone of Craig’s strong jaw, and that was when Hannibal truly knew comfort and peace.

Again and again, his fist bashed against Craig’s cheekbone, jaw, chin, and then knocked into his shoulder. The man had turned himself around, attempting to shield and cover his flesh and bones from Hannibal’s blind, unbiased rage. The small physical ‘altercation’ of sorts continued out into the hall. Dropping the flowers in a fit of fright, Adam tore after them. Due to the extreme noise, one by one, the other tenants of the apartment complex opened their doors a tiny fraction to glance out at the violent scene.

Stumbling backwards, Craig cowered down in fear, and such a move only fueled Hannibal’s virose, explosive anger. Knowing how Craig was playing up the ‘innocent victim’ card, the former psychiatrist thought the act was far too tasteless to even be worthy of mild tolerance. If only he had a blade on his person…

Suddenly, a warm, heavy weight was thrust upon his back. Peeking over his shoulder, Hannibal’s murderous gaze and thoughts soon broke away from utterly destroying Craig. Adam had gripped him around the waist, burying his weeping, panicked face into his shirt. His salty, gentle tears drenched the cloth more than the rain had, and Hannibal could feel Adam’s heart beating steadily into his back. Muscles meshed over bones, and Adam’s rib cage molded into Hannibal’s long spine.

In that moment, as Adam pressed himself closer and closer against him, Hannibal couldn’t help but allow his mind and thoughts to drift over to a warm, comfortable, and familiar place. It was akin to what ‘home’ would’ve felt like, and as the connection between the older man and the young brunette grew in that single second it took for Adam’s blood to fire up across his body and Hannibal’s temperate to rise, he felt the age-old similarities of a bond taking its hold over himself.

_We could become one…we could…blur…_

A most erratic, violent trembling racked into Hannibal, and it came from Adam. The young man was shaking uncontrollably, rambling on and on into the back of Hannibal’s neck the entire time he clung on like his life depended on it. All Hannibal was able to hear was nothing other than Adam’s life essence thrumming and coursing in his veins.

_Breathe…_

Hannibal only then realized that Adam was muttering words and phrases of apology, had been begging for forgiveness, stated that he felt regretful, was remorseful, and wanted things to be ‘okay’…

Straightening himself, Hannibal pushed his hair away from his eyes while trying to gather all semblances of whatever was left of his dignity. He knew he was the brute in such a case. Craig had made it so, cowering still while Adam wept uncontrollably. His breaths came out like desperate pants, and as Hannibal quieted himself down, he knew he could feel only one thing in the middle of all the craziness and insane havoc.

He felt he’d won.

To win at everything he set out for in his life had always given Hannibal Lecter the greatest sense of purpose and achievements. He loved being right, he loved making his points clear to others, he loved putting the rude back in their rightful place, and most of all, he loved knowing he was above someone. That ‘someone’ happened to be Craig, for the time being, Hannibal reigned in terror as he loomed above him. As meager and small as Craig happened to appear for now, Hannibal knew that it was still all an act. Craig was putting on a rather stupid ‘play’ of sorts, acting as though he was an injured, weak, fallen man. Hannibal knew better; this man was strong, and if given the chance, he would’ve fought back.

If Adam wasn’t here, there would no doubt be bloodshed…

Without looking back at the young man in question, Hannibal clasped his hand tightly in his own. Adam shifted back and forth, glancing between the length of the hall and the comforts of his own apartment door. He muttered something under his breath, but Hannibal growled down an interruption viciously at Craig.

With his free hand, Hannibal flicked a finger towards Craig. “Don’t show up around here again, or I’ll be forced to act in uglier ways you won’t even be able to dream of.” The strong threat lingered in the air like the stench of burnt food, the implications rather potent even though they were only cutting, jarring words.

Craig nodded quickly, avoiding eye contact as he rose to his feet and made a quick break for it. Nearly crashing into doors and walls, he ran and zipped down the steps, practically flying down them as though a hundred demons were following him in great pursuit.

When a loud ‘boom’ echoed down below into the lobby, indicative of his feet landing and thundering across the floor, Hannibal breathed a tiny stream of air in and out of his lungs in relief and the satisfaction that Craig was gone.

For now? Or forever??

Rather than allowing the question to get to him and bother himself, however, he knew he had other greater things to address, specifically when Adam gave his shirt sleeves one final, urgent tug.

Whirling back around to face Adam, Hannibal felt emotions of joy, elation, adoration, and mild lust brewing in his veins the longer he gazed down at his companion. They were alone at last, and they wouldn’t be interrupted again. Something along the lines of possessiveness flitted along Hannibal’s heart, clenching and enveloping it tightly in a dark shroud. As long as Adam was his, and his alone, then he was satisfied.

….

But that _still_ couldn’t satiate the growling, violent beast rising up along his sternum and in his throat, clawing its way up towards his mouth where it demanded to be heard as it emitted a nerve-wracking howl to be heard for miles. It served as the glowering, looming anger Hannibal persistently reserved for Adam; for his betrayal and shutting himself in away from Hannibal.

Perhaps the boy needed to be punished…

…Yes, he wasn’t entirely pleased with Adam, yet. Not until they had a good ‘chat’.


	20. The Evil of Wishing

Hannibal had been much too hasty. With much greater force than necessary, he gripped Adam by the back of the neck, and he ushered him back inside the apartment. After slamming and bolting the door tightly locked, Hannibal snarled at Adam when he moved to pick up the little plants. They were lying on the floor against the wall, thankfully not messily or ruined entirely. They could still be salvaged, but right now, that wasn’t at the top of priorities for Hannibal Lecter.

“Leave them!” he gave out a small roar when Adam tried scooping up bits of scattered soil that surrounded one of the flowerpots. His guttural growls warned Adam one final time to ignore the damn mess the plants were abandoned in.

Not listening, Adam tried scooping up the potent-smelling soil in both hands carefully. He handled everything with such perfection and such delicacy; everything except his own well-being and safety, which sent Hannibal into quite the ravenous, rage-filled state unlike anything he’d experienced in years. Did this oddball of a youth _not even once_ consider or realize how delicate and fragile he was?!? Didn’t it ever occur to Adam that outside his apartment, there was a great, vast, dangerous world populated by monsters and demons viciously and ferociously ready and waiting to attack him?! To devour him whole, spit him back out, and then do it all over again?!

How dare he remain in such a willingly ignorant state…how fucking dare he…

Exploding like a super volcano, Hannibal swooped down in rage and yanked on the center of Adam’s soft grey vest. “Leave it, I said!!” Hoisting Adam up on his feet perfectly, he didn’t even allow the youth to have a moment to gain his bearings. Shoving Adam until he was off-balance, Hannibal kicked open the bedroom door and threw the small-framed man onto the center of the bed. Adam tried getting back up on his feet, but Hannibal pressed down on the center of his chest. As a result, he screamed out, writhing at the emotional and psychological agony unleashed upon himself so unjustly. The sounds of the younger man screaming and growling in rage seemed to incite the monstrous desires and creatures of the shadows battling within Hannibal’s heart, because he snarled out in reply. Fingernails curled into his palm, digging deeper and his demons’ movements inside the pit of his black heart became even more wild and animalistic.

Snatching a pillow and tossing it at him, Adam had clearly taken umbrage with Hannibal’s mistreatment of himself. “You’re a bully, Nigel!” Adam puffed out, eyes slightly red and watery. “You hurt me so much!”

“And you think that you don’t do the same to me, Adam?” Hannibal argued back alongside a solemn disposition, shaking his head in astonishment. “You ignore my feelings, don’t you?”

Only a heavy semblance of quiet streamed forth from Adam, and it was unnerving.

In raw silence, Hannibal looked down at the boy. He was a bit too short, he decided as he let his hands move down his sides, ensuring his waist possessively. With renewed strength, Hannibal lifted him from the bed, swung him around and placed him on the cool surface of the desk in the bedroom, near the bed itself. His frantic, powerful actions caused Adam to give a startled little yelp and beam with amused delight.

Raising his thin, pale brows in mild amusement, Hannibal was already moving to yank his own shirt up over his upper torso. As he tugged it off his long arms and shoulders, he paused, tilting his head curiously down at Adam still perched upon the rough desk. “I think you look good there, Adam,” he pointed out, flinging the shirt to the floor as he took measured steps towards the ardent young man. “But I’m still angry with you for disobeying my wishes and talking to Craig when you know how much I hate that son of a fucking bitch.”

Shifting backwards upon hearing his older lover’s negaholic thoughts and fulminated words, Adam’s shoulders hit the wall when he’d run out of room and space to inch away from Hannibal. Wincing when Hannibal’s large hands slammed down on either side of his body, Adam had to hold still while Hannibal leaned against him. Smirking with far too much in the way of confidence, Hannibal growled lustfully in his partner’s ear, “I guess my warnings didn’t go heeded…shall I teach you another lesson then, Adam?”

Trying to ensure his partner that he meant no harm at all, Hannibal loomed over Adam, and he offered the shorter, obstreperous male a friendly, yet nefastous smile. Confidently, Adam smiled back, chuckled a little, then he got serious when Hannibal dragged him closely by wrapping an arm around his waist. Still with one arm circling Adam’s slender waist, he lifted his fingers to his slender neck and brushed it free from any hair. Exposed sweet scented, cream colored skin and a pounding artery greeted Hannibal, and the vicious nature toying and pulling at Hannibal’s strings of self-control demanded to be released. But he knew he couldn’t ever unleash that side of himself before this innocent creature. Reminding himself to be gentle, Hannibal closed the last few inches between his lips and Adam’s forehead. Kissing the soft, smooth skin there once he brushed back bits of dark brown, curly hair, he inhaled sharply and scented Adam. In return, the younger man closed his eyes and bent forward. With renewed courage, he let his tongue loose and licked the smooth skin along Hannibal’s neck lightly. He was rewarded with a deep growl of possession emitted by Hannibal. Sliding his hands up bravely along the older man’s temples, Adam gently caressed his lover’s hair. Relishing in the sensation of Adam’s small fingers curling about in his hair, the former psychiatrist gave out a deep sigh.

He didn’t want to wait any longer. Everything that was a dangerous, risky part of Hannibal wanted nothing more than to turn the pliant, youthful body beneath his own around, raise his hips in the air, and ravage his body selfishly to the point where Adam would bleed…but that had to remain in his mind and never make it up to the surface where he could physically harm Adam.

Treating the youth with utmost care, his soft touches caused Adam to sigh and fall apart before he became soft and yielding in Hannibal’s arms. Rolled into oblivion by the power of his mind, he knew he was causing more pleasure than pain, and he had Adam right where he wanted him the most. His fists slowly curled and uncurled in Adam’s thick hair while the youth hissed with pleasure. Hannibal carefully pressed himself closer to Adam, who rode the feel of the flow, their bodies moving. While his eyes remained shut, Hannibal practically could scent Adam’s arousal; deep red blood that poured into him from arteries running up along his neck. Truly, Hannibal wondered what Adam would taste like…perhaps of lilac, innocence, and wild lust. The thoughts and sensational ideas made him dizzy enough to nearly swoon.

Adam’s body heat surged and rose when Hannibal undid his belt buckle and slowly tossed it to the ground. The desk shook violently as Hannibal-a bit too roughly due to his impatience bubbling-tugged down as hard as he could on the damn jeans. Shunting them off Adam’s body, he inhaled a fresh breath now that the barriers of clothing were out of the way. To his sheer delight, he found that Adam’s scent became stronger, almost overwhelming. It was as if he’d brought him back to life after removing the clothes that had perhaps chained him up…and his lust…

Lips instead of teeth clamped around Adam’s neck. Erupting in a sweet outburst, Adam let his head fall back to ride out the feeling. As his inner beast calmed down significantly, Hannibal heard Adam’s tiny whimpering sounds as through a haze. He looked down, and to try and satiate his need to devour and consume, he imagined his teeth had already done well to tear Adam’s sweet, supple flesh apart. Like a hungry wolf, Hannibal nibbled and lapped at Adam’s flesh, imagining instead that the wounds his razor-sharp teeth had created were still bleeding profusely. Oh, how wonderfully Adam would bleed and then hang limp and oblivious in his arms. He would quickly lick the wounds clean, close them with his saliva, soothe and eat up every trace of red from the creamy skin. So smooth the texture, so soft and warm...the sheer softness akin to floating between clouds made it so that Hannibal found it hard to stop. Sensually, he trailed the line to Adam’s ear, licked lightly at the earlobe, and traced the curve of the fine shell with the tip of his tongue. Reluctantly pulling back enough, he pressed his lips to Adam’s soft cheek.

Adam reciprocated each touch in kind. His hands stroked the older man’s sides up and down, caught the fabric of his pants on one side and dragged it with need downwards enough to expose the flat belly. Gaping down at the light ‘fur’ and silvery wisps of hair that coated Hannibal’s abs, Adam’s fingers landed there. Touching the warm skin, he took a profluent moment to caress it firmly. Next, he rubbed it with his fingers moving higher, and he accidentally brushed a stiff nipple in process. While Adam’s hands explored, Hannibal’s other hand followed and moved over Adam’s bare chest. Persistently, Adam touched the muscles dancing along Hannibal’s toned, lean torso while his mouth kept pressing kisses to his face.

Hannibal moaned, still dazed and drugged from the scent and taste of Adam’s flesh, but Adam didn’t seem to want to stop. He pulled the older man closer, his legs already spread widely and openly to allow room for Hannibal to settle between them obscenely. Closer together, now, Adam brought their hips into closer contact while caressing Hannibal’s smooth, narrow back with his hands.

“Adam…” Hannibal murmured and tilted his head slightly. His grip in Adam’s hair strengthened as his eyes began to regain focus. His sweet breath in Adam’s face, so warm and inviting and serene like fog upon a glassy, profulgent pond. Taken by the lust, they kissed. Adam’s soft, full lips parted, and Hannibal’s warm tongue slipped inside. Saliva mingled as their tongues caressed each other, teased and slid over and across in a sensual dance that never seemed to end. They fell into a rhythm with each other that was as natural as breathing. Adam’s legs curled around the taller male’s thighs and he pressed himself closer to the former psychiatrist while moaning softly into the kiss. His hands hugged his shoulders and he arched up from the smooth desk hips first, while creating a mewing sound in his throat. That sound turned Hannibal on to no end, and in response, he growled and lurched forward, bashing the smaller male’s back and shoulders into the wall.

Adam received his weight without breaking the kiss. Carefully, Hannibal lifted Adam up in the air and lowered him to the tiled floor of the bedroom. He hovered above him, his messy, sandy colored hair falling around his eyes and forehead like a curtain. Vision focusing, Hannibal’s eyes widened dramatically, his gasp mingling with the raw shock upon imagining Adam standing there with his throat split open. He was bleeding out a lovely auburn river on the floor. Both infuriated by his visions but at the same time aroused beyond belief, Hannibal dove in for a biting kiss. Tugging at Adam’s lips roughly, he finally broke the kiss and gave the boy a chance to breathe. So sweet that taste, the taste of Adam lingering on his tongue, flowing through his veins…

He pushed the black material of the shirt up to Adam’s armpits, took a brief second to admire the sight presented there before he swept down to touch his chest with his mouth. Gently, Hannibal allowed his lips to roam creamy skin, and his tongue flickered out to touch a nipple. Adam writhed and moaned beneath him, rubbed his hips against Hannibal’s in sheer desperation.

“Oh God,” he murmured and panted. “This feels so good!!”

That, it certainly did.

Hannibal’s wandering hands slid and roamed down to his young lover’s hips, where he was able to feel the juncture and strong bones through the fabric of Adam’s underwear. The erect hardness that lay across his lower belly peeking up was tantalizing; it reeled Hannibal in. He caressed it roughly through the fine texture, ears alert for any sound escaping Adam’s mouth. His efforts never went unrewarded; Adam cried out and stifled the sensational moan by biting into his own hand. He was breathing heavily now and moved rhythmically against Hannibal’s palm. Though Hannibal still imagined Adam falling apart mentally and physically in his hands, when he glanced up, he was met with a different sight. Adam had his eyes half-closed, obviously lost in passion.

At once, Hannibal thought him the most beautiful creature alive in that moment. A luscious being. A luxury to touch. He lay Adam carefully down on the bed, and then joined him, flattening himself on his side down beside Adam. His fingers continued to rub the twitching arousal, realizing he himself was in a similar state; hard and erect under the black fabric of his boxers. Adam boldly rolled halfway over and caught his lips again, sucking at his tongue gently. The bravery displayed there only created electric sensations of raging lust that shot through Hannibal’s body, making him growl into the wild kiss and pull and shove Adam’s hips roughly with his own. Hannibal felt their arousals meet through the layers of fabric, caressing and stroking over each other’s. Adam’s hips moved eagerly, pushing and grinding at the same time in perfect doses. The moment Adam reached behind Hannibal and cupped his ass, the older male let Adam’s mouth go and moaned loudly in the silent room.

Adam’s shirt had been wildly ripped open during their passionate encounter on the desk. When the youth leaned forward, Hannibal rejoiced as he felt Adam’s sweet perspiration on his skin. The slick dampness of the younger male was akin to a rejuvenating, magic elixir someone had doused Hannibal in. Senses all keen, he almost settled himself directly over Adam when their nipples almost touched as they rolled against each other’s salty, warm moisture. Their legs had entwined, locking them both to the other’s body. Arms tangled; mouth’s still eager to explore for hours.

Then suddenly, a hard tug inside the back of Hannibal’s mind began. Almost starting out like an annoying itch that demanded attention, it grew in volume and intensity, crawling along everywhere. It felt as though Hannibal’s skin was peeling off, and he could practically feel a million bugs crawling up and down along his arms…

Glancing down at Adam, Hannibal slowly came to his senses. A particularly violent jolting feeling bounced into the center of his chest, rattling his bones, and cutting into his muscles. He reeled in pain, and as he desperately panted and gulfed down fresh air-what little he could-he saw the lights turning on brighter and brighter in the room. Beaming so brightly that he had to shield his eyes from it, he turned his vision away from the ceiling where they were cast, and he took another peek at Adam.

Instead of Adam, however, right there on the center of the mattress happened to be the rotting, headless corpse of the slender, emaciated wendigo. It reached out for him, its claws slicing through the skin on his cheeks. Like candle wax, Hannibal found his own skin dripping off his bones and frame. It all fell and puddled down around the tar-like substance that was the disgusting, despicable wendigo. He was now nothing. Lifting his head up to peer into the mirror hanging above the bed, he let out a loose wail of utter turmoil and anguish when he saw both the deceased Abigail Hobbs and Will Graham reflecting in the mirror at him. Maggots and worms gnawed at the grey-blue flesh, and they smiled vampiric, cruel smirks at him…

Screaming as he beat his hands against his face, Hannibal rolled off Adam and fell onto the floor violently. Yelling out in fear and shock, Adam went down with him, landing less than gracefully on top of him in the process. Trying not to panic and burst out in fear, Hannibal quickly began to loosen himself from the tug of Adam’s heavy, unwilling limbs. Hearing a disappointed outburst from the stunned male enabled him to finally realize what was happening. His red, hazy gaze was shrouded and dilated, his lips swollen and moist from all the kissing, nibbling, and sucking he’d delivered to Adam’s warm flesh. Adam didn’t look any better; his hair hung in his eyes and all across his forehead, beads of sweat rolled down his chin and nose, and he was panting out in short bursts while his chest heaved up and down, in and out.

Pulling a pained face, Hannibal gripped the edge of the bed and slowly got to his feet. Following him, Adam reached out a lazy hand and tried to stop him when he rose from the floor. “Don’t touch me, Adam!” Hannibal’s warnings were rejected, but only for a moment. When he’d stood up as tall as he could over Adam, the younger man’s eyes fell into his body, lust drugged and unsteady.

“W-why?! Wh-what did I do?!?” Adam inquired, highly and obviously disappointed with the discommodious situation and tension.

Not answering, Hannibal backed up, but like fire, Adam sprung up, and he bestowed a few sensual, burning kisses onto Hannibal’s sculpted chest. Unfettered, Adam then licked one of his cherry colored nipples, but rather than causing a reaction in the delightful way from Hannibal to be drawn out, the older man pinned Adam down on the bed and shoved him as far away as he could. It was a silent form of a way Hannibal could discept and dispute his own inner battles and desires, and it was the only tool he could utilize before losing his mind.

Disgust with himself wasn’t something Hannibal normally felt, but for the first time in ages, he truly hated himself and wanted to end his own pathetic suffering. He’d never known such suffering before, and it tugged and pulled at his flesh as though someone had nailed him to a cross…

Tearing away from Adam, he made sure to close the door after himself, already knowing that his actions would yet again cause harm to the confused, slightly gullible youth. But this wasn’t an abandonment; unlike last time when Hannibal had walked away, this time that he had, it was for a specific purpose.

He would only return for Adam when he’d properly prepared the young, innocent male for a lifetime at his side. Yes, there had to be exams and tests all throughout life. Hannibal had already gone through his own fair share of them, and now, it was Adam’s turn.

One last test, and Adam would be his.

…Or not. Time and Adam would tell. They both held the key…and Hannibal had locked away the chambers of his heart. For now.

(--~*~--)

_“Nigel!! Hahaha!! That tickles!!!” _

_“Hang still, cutie, I’m trying to massage you like I promised!!” _

_“Noooo! You keep tickling me on purpose, Nigel!!!” _

_“Hmm, perhaps, darling, but I can’t seem to want to stop touching you…you’re so beautiful.” _

_They’d been a small sum of the grand moiety of the world they’d built around each other. Curling up next to each other after a long day spent apart, Adam and Nigel cast diminutive, prurient glances at one another. Today was a rather special day; it was Adam’s birthday. _

_Adam knew it, Nigel knew it. Together, they had planned a most excellent, exciting day. Nigel had already made the arrangements to have Adam’s cake and gift delivered to their apartment an hour before Adam returned from work. It was a perfect, done deal. The beautiful space-cake with a rocket launching and taking off into the air started off the first layer, while the top layer was the entire solar system spread out. _

_Adam was going to love it. _

_Nigel had even gone so far as to make himself a spacesuit, and he put it on right before Adam came home. Just as he’d suspected, the twenty-year-old male was ecstatic. He spent nearly fifteen minutes just gaping at the cake. He didn’t even want to eat it because he was scared of ruining it!! In order to distract him, Nigel chased him excitedly around the apartment, popping and blowing balloons all over the place. Losing himself to a fit of giggles, Adam was reduced to a child’s age, and they both shared in the joyous rounds of laughter uninhibited. Later, they watched Adam’s favorite movies, and then Nigel handed Adam his gifts._

_A new space necklace, with little stars and astronauts dancing along it. A small, heart shaped locket rested in the center. When Adam opened it, one side of the heart was Adam’s birthstone, and the other side held a tiny photograph of Adam and Nigel’s first date at the park. Nigel had also awarded him with a new book on space discoveries, a new pair of binoculars, a textbook, as well as a brand-new telescope. _

_To show his gratitude, even though he didn’t have to, young Adam soon led Nigel to his bedroom. Quickly trying to take over and keep up with the special, special day, Nigel soon laid Adam out onto his stomach once he’d carefully undressed his lover. After kissing him from head to toe, Nigel brought out some exotic oils, and he massaged Adam as tenderly as he could. Touching certain areas of Adam’s body, especially his firm, sexy ass, only resulted in Adam mewling and writhing on the bed in absolute joy. At the height of his sexual arousal and fantasies, Nigel’s body soon responded in kind. _

_How could he help himself, after all? Adam was irresistible, insatiable, and a Prince of desire. Nigel soon chased after that desire, his clothing littering their bedroom floor within a few minutes while his body turned to mush. Hopping on top of Adam carefully, Nigel wordlessly slid a thigh between Adam’s legs, spreading them apart obscenely. Soon, they were lost to their own entanglement of warm limbs, gentle kisses, longing caresses. Nigel always made the first move, touching Adam everywhere he could reach. It didn’t take too long to prepare his lover, the oils and lubricant always within reach. _

_Adam was perfect and open before himself there on the bed. Like a young God among men, his curly, dark brown mop of hair flew back on the pillow and white sheets, spreading about his flushed features. Lips as red as roses, blue eyes as clean and as pure as the depths of the ocean without a storm present; all of it lured Nigel in and kept him there. Drawn further and deeper into Adam, Nigel practically melted under the youth’s penetrating gaze. In mere minutes, they were both sweating, panting, and moaning. It was messy, it was rough, it was gentle, it was sweet; it was perfection at its finest. _

_This was the life they’d always dreamed of. _

_Vowing to treat Adam with extra care and caution, when he felt his lover was more than ready, slick with desire and want, Nigel shifted his hips, and the tip of his arousal had been deeply sheathed and buried inside Adam’s comfortable, familiar warmth. Nearly falling apart at the seams when he realized how tight and fresh Adam still felt after all this teasing, Nigel could hardly contain himself. He loathed to admit it, but the first few times he’d coupled with Adam, it had been quite a nasty, brutal affair. That wasn’t to say Adam hadn’t participated and enjoyed it. Sure enough, he had, but Nigel back then had focused and put far too much energy into his own passion and desires. Lust guided him back at that time, causing him to be so unhinged that he knew he’d hurt Adam. But the younger man bore it and tolerated it as best as he could. No matter what Nigel had thrown at Adam, he proved he was able to handle it._

_His arms back then had been nothing but gentle and warm, just as they were now while he wrapped them around Nigel’s neck and pulled him close. Bellies rubbed, sweat built up between tiny crevices. The imperfections were perfect, the flaws were graceful. When had it been this way? Nigel truly didn’t know. All he was certain of was the fact that he loved the rigid, rough flesh and lean muscle of another man’s body gliding and sliding over his own. Never before had he even hugged or kissed another man, aside from a friendly peck to Darko’s cheek once…when beyond drunk. But Adam was different; Adam was life and love in the flesh. _

_Cleverly reaching between Adam’s legs, Nigel was a most dutiful lover, not at all abandoning Adam his well-deserved pleasure. Stroking Adam’s cock and fondling his sensitive balls, Nigel rolled his hips in perfectly timed and well-practiced circles. Pulling back out carefully, in order to stretch out their time together before it all ended far too soon, Nigel resorted to gently making love to Adam with the stiff tip of his cock. Slowly slipping it back and forth inside his lover, he made cautious dips, followed by slow and drawn-out sweeps, almost making it so that with enough force emanating from his powerful body, Adam was lurched back and forth, chasing lustfully after that sweet, sweet essence. _

_Wanton sucking and squelching noises lewdly echoed off the four walls of the small bedroom, and Nigel’s ears devoured each and every single one of them. As a creature of auditory habit, there was nothing more he enjoyed than hearing how Adam’s tight channel sucked and pulled around his cock, urging, begging, pleading for him to pound into that tightness harder and deeper. _

_So he did._

_Without holding back, Nigel heaved himself forth, ramming harder inside Adam until the other man was panting and crying out in time with Nigel’s thrusts. Suddenly, as Nigel slammed into Adam, he decided that since it was Adam’s twenty-first birthday, something new had to be gifted to the youth. Not that he was weary of always enjoying Adam’s flesh in this specific manner, but Nigel wanted a change of pace. Yes…_

_Having made his decisions quickly, Nigel gripped Adam’s sides. Fingers clasping onto his hips firmly, he braced his own weight onto the bed by dipping a knee down, and he strongly pushed Adam up. Not once breaking the connection from where they were physically tied together, Nigel rolled himself onto the bed, lying flatly on his back. Adam let out a surprised yelp, eyes blown widely as he was righted atop Nigel’s lap. _

_Hanging there for a moment in sheer shock, Adam let out a small shriek of sorts before trying to move off Nigel. Quickly preventing him from doing so, Nigel latched onto Adam’s arms, and he held onto him tightly. Offering his young lover a look of genuine reassurance, Nigel blurted out with raw passion and serenity in his voice, “No, don’t do that, darling; I want to see you!”_

_Face red, Adam whined petulantly, “B-but…Nigel! Th-this embarrasses me!”_

_Raising an inquisitive thin brow, Nigel erupted in a deep, low growl, “Why’s that, darling?” Hips moving up, he didn’t cease thrusting while slowly and tenderly fisting Adam’s cock. The resulting effect was perfect; Adam’s eyes rolled back into his skull, and he let out a string of delightful, canorous crooning that reverberated perfectly in the center of Nigel’s ears. Among all of that, Adam was singing songs of praise for Nigel. The older man’s sexual prowess had been further proven, and as he basked in the height of his triumph and confidence beneath Adam, he gently moved his hips up and down, a silent way of encouraging Adam to continue moving._

_Though he was initially met with some reluctance, Adam quivered for a moment before grinding down on the length of his cock perfectly buried between his supple cheeks. The feeling was absolutely one Nigel knew for certain he wanted to experience again. _

_Chuckling softly, he purred out, “Do that again for me, Adam…”_

_“N-no!” Adam refused, hanging his head low, shielding his expressions from Nigel._

_Not at all upset, a most patient and understanding Nigel beamed at his love. Empathy swimming and pooling in the center of his love-filled eyes, he guided a hand up to cup Adam’s right cheek. Thumb grazing the soft stubble already growing there on the youth’s tender, pink skin, Nigel sighed, “Don’t be shy, my love. You’re fucking beautiful.” _

_This declaration awakened confidence within Adam. Slowly and carefully meeting Nigel’s eyes, he paused, and then a soft, innocent smile broke out across his pink lips that were already much too swollen from Nigel’s possessive kisses. “Do you really th-think so, Nigel?”_

_Rewarding him with a soft kiss over his forehead, Nigel nodded. “I know so, my love. You’re the most beautiful creature that ever walked this fucking Earth. I mean it.” Slowing his motions down, he added gently, “We can take this slowly if you want, but I wanted to see you better this way, darling.”_

_Nibbling and worrying his lower lip while he considered it, Adam eventually ground out weakly, “You…you like th-this, Nigel?”_

_Eyes flitting down the length of Adam’s taut abs, nicely toned stomach, perfect thighs, slender hips, and the rest of his perfectly proportioned body, Nigel sighed ardently. “Ooooh, fuck yes I do, darling…” Nearly exploding right there in a paroxysm of a vocal orgasm when he gaped down at Adam’s pink, pert cock jutting forth, Nigel once again took to fisting Adam. Snugly fitting in the palm of his large hand, his young lover nearly fell forward when Nigel’s hand flew up and down his stiffness. Bracing himself by slamming and pressing down a hand over Nigel’s firm, broad chest, Adam nearly wept. Eyes as wet as his cock, he blinked back the tears that sweetly fell like tiny, shiny diamonds glittering and beaming in the late afternoon sun._

_Grateful at least that these were tears of pleasure as opposed to one of suffering and pain, Nigel bucked up enough to be able to whisper hotly into Adam’s ear, “You’re doing just fine, darling; sexy as fuck, and remember to keep moving with me.”_

_Nodding was all Adam could do. Nigel set a pace, and then let Adam take over. He was intent on soon delivering all the pleasure he could, while simultaneously ensuring Adam that this was a shared moment of intimacy. This wasn’t fucking. This was making love, and now, he was letting Adam make love to him. _

_Draping a hand and crossing it behind and beneath his head, he enjoyed the view thoroughly. Adam was not only soon riding him like a damn sex demon, but he looked like he was absolutely having the time of his life doing so. He no doubt was enjoying it. He’d thrown his head back, shut his eyes tightly, and began palming Nigel’s chest and muscles between intervals of rolling his hips and firmly planting himself down over Nigel’s length. Swallowing it all from base to tip, he took everything deeper and deeper, making Nigel see stars, practically. Adam’s sexual awakening and confidence had been born anew; he was at the top of the world, now, and Nigel wasn’t going to stop him._

_Hissing words of praise and encouragement, Nigel groaned, “Yessss, ride me, baby,” and Adam lost it. Throwing himself up and down, he bounced perfectly over Nigel’s lap. Though he’d had plenty of sex in his lifetime, Adam was absolutely the best by far. Not that Nigel enjoyed comparing his partners, hell, he didn’t even miss them or think of them, especially his ex-wife Gabi. She’d been mistaken for being the love of his life for so long, but Nigel had fully come to terms with and accepted that in his previous assessments, he’d been wrong. Adam Raki was the one and only true love of his entire life, and that was that. _

_Adam’s innocence and purity of soul and mind had been the best feature of the young man when they’d met, and it’d been something that Nigel had found attractive in another person that wasn’t sex-related or dependent on their physique. This discovery had initially shocked him right to his essence and core, and once he’d concluded that there wasn’t anything inherently wrong with himself, he’d sought Adam out more and more and more. Though they’d been friends at first when they met during one of Nigel’s drug and ‘business’ trips to America with Darko, which had later spiraled into Nigel suspecting his wife of having an affair behind his back, that soon developed into something far greater and deeper. Frightened of himself for feeling such things and even dreaming about another man, let alone a sexy, super model woman, Nigel pushed his odd new friend away. It helped that he had the distraction of the drug money to hide and launder back and forth, but also his budding anger with Charlie Countryman and Gabi aided him in using up majority of his time trying to kill Charlie. _

_Yes, that had been fun and exciting, up until it wasn’t. After weeks of chasing Countryman down to no end and without yielding any true results, Nigel concluded that he’d fallen out of love with Gabi, and his affections were suspended for someone else…_

_…For Adam Raki. _

_They’d been together ever since, and when Nigel knew that Adam felt the same way for him, he was more than content with letting his ex-wife go. He’d lost, yes, but he’d also gained something far greater, far more beautiful. _

_Adam was true, Adam was fantastic, Adam was his and his alone._

_Nearly spent while Adam’s body twisted and coiled above his own in all the fucking right ways, Nigel threw his head back, closed his eyes, and gritted his teeth tightly together. Struggling one final time against his biology, he soon felt the tip of his cock tingling, twitching, and then his balls ached. His thick cock went somewhat numb suddenly, and without warning, when Adam slammed down, taking as much of his length and girth as he could, Nigel saw the fucking stars, moon, and entire galaxy exploding before his closed eyes. _

_Shuddering and lurching forth involuntarily, he spilled his entire seed deeply within Adam’s tight heat. It was constantly pulling and sucking him of everything he had to offer, and when Adam gripped his arms so he could bend and plant one last deep kiss with his tongue lapping against Nigel’s, everything was fucking perfect. Adam knew exactly what he liked, right on the fucking dot._

_They both came again deeply, shrieking and clawing at each other for support. Nigel nearly fainted, while Adam collapsed right on top of his older lover, body strained and spent. They were both a pile of sticky, sweaty flesh, bones like jelly, and limbs tingling and heavy. Panting and exhausted, Nigel carefully rolled Adam off himself, and once he’d cleansed both their thighs and stomachs, taking extra care and tenderness into consideration during the process, he cuddled in bed with his lover. Adam deserved the best, and the gentlest of touches…and that was what he was going to get._

_As Nigel tried making them both comfortable on the bed, one of Adam’s small, warm hands came to weave and wind around his shoulder. Bracing his head over Nigel’s chest, Adam nuzzled his older lover’s warm flesh. _

_Nigel emitted a satiated sigh, but then Adam placed a small index finger over his lips. “Shh, Nigel,” he cooed, “I want to listen to your heart beating for me…”_

_Nigel kissed the top of Adam’s skull and closed his eyes. “And you know it’ll always beat for you, darling.”_

_Gently resting the palm of one hand directly over Nigel’s beating heart, Adam allowed his flesh to sink into his lover’s. The thrumming and pulsing of their blood coursing through the veins in their bodies was enough to set a strange little rhythm. It lulled Adam to sleep, and he soon began slipping from a state of consciousness, to that of a dream land. _

_His tiny snores hit Nigel’s ears, and as the older man stretched himself out over the mattress, he studied the ceiling for a moment. A clock resting on one of the night tables by the bed ticked on to midnight, and Nigel knew he’d lost too much time thinking. _

_The dull, quotidian sounds of traffic and night animals outside nearly turned him forgetful and numb from the last thing on his ‘to do’ list. While it technically wasn’t Adam’s birthday anymore, Nigel still had one final gift left to give Adam. This was going to be the best, and most priceless gift, and what’s more was that he knew for a fact that Adam’s reaction was going to be well worth it. _

_Eyes on the top of Adam’s head, Nigel very slowly and very gingerly leaned forward, drawing himself away from the warmth of the mattress and pillows. Arching his upper torso in the air, he made sure he didn’t move Adam to wake him up. Extra cautiously, he slid his long legs over the edge of the bed, and he made sure not to make a sound as he stood on his feet. The cold floor of the bedroom seeped into his bones, and he repressed a yawn as he pushed the sheets over Adam’s nude frame._

_Softly, he padded over towards the front of the room, and while keeping an eye out for Adam, he grabbed his jacket from the closet. Searching through his left pocket, he shied away from the extra bright lights emanating from the windows whenever a car or truck drove on by outside the apartment. Too fucking bright._

_Blinking back exhaustion from his sore eyes, Nigel restrained himself from letting loose with a triumphant shriek of joy when his fingers closed around a small object one could fit in the palm of their hand. Slowly glancing toward Adam, when he saw that the youth was still peacefully sleeping, Nigel withdrew his hand from his jacket._

_The object was a small, black box, coated in soft blue velvet. Nigel stroked the top of it, and as he held it under his nose, he propped open the lid. Slowly…carefully…soundlessly. Right in the center of the box perched a fancy, silver engagement ring. Nigel didn’t dare touch it, but he spun the box around in front of his own eyes, knowing exactly what had been carved and ingrained along the inside of the circumference of the ring._

_It was marked by a date, specifically the exact day which Nigel had met Adam. July 18th. It was a date that Nigel would never forget, not even when he was in an old retirement home. It also stated on the ring clearly that Nigel was going to be with Adam forever._

_‘Till death do us part. Nigel and Adam together, forever. July 18th, with you always.’_

_He’d rehearsed the words over and over until it sounded perfect enough to be carved into the ring. Everything had to be perfect. He knew the ring was, Adam’s birthday had followed in that line, as well, but Nigel still worried about the proposal. Not really a man highly organized, the more emotional, impulsive Nigel Ibanescu decided upon proposing to Adam not even a few months ago. He’d gone over the idea a few times, at first thinking that something had been wrong with his brain. Yes, he knew he loved Adam and cared for him deeper than life itself. Yes, he wanted to forever and always be a part of Adam and serve him by his side, but marriage?!? He’d already gone through that…_

_…_

_No. Adam Raki wasn’t at all like Gabi. To even compare them was a sin…a damn crime!! Adam was far greater, and he deserved more. Vowing to give him more and the best of the best, Nigel wished to go about this the right way. Adam deserved eternal love and devotion, and no one else in the world was going to give it to Adam, except for Nigel himself. He belonged only to Adam, and Adam belonged only to him. _

_Once he’d gone over the idea with Darko, and once his old friend supported him completely, Nigel’s new confidence permitted him to go forward with writing out how he was even going to string together the words for a proposal. _

_What would he say?? How would he even begin to say it?? Would Adam like this at all? Was this too old fashioned?? _

_After losing a few nights of sleep over it, Nigel decided to be realistic. A proposal had to come directly from the heart; no amount of practice or rehearsing would solve the trick. In fact, he was positive that if he pressed on making it ‘perfect’, Adam wouldn’t like it much. His darling was so, so smart, and he wouldn’t like something ‘manufactured’. No…if there was going to be a proposal at all, it had to come directly from the damn heart and soul. That’s how it would be fucking perfect._

_Hanging his head low and speaking at the ring shining forth at himself, Nigel whispered softly, “Adam, darling, will you please marry me and spend the rest of your life by my side?”_

_….._

_That had to be it. He would communicate that way that he wished to share a lifetime with Adam, and that he only needed Adam._

_But something was lacking…_

_Scrambling for answers while he frowned to himself, Nigel tried, “Adam, I love you so, so very much, please marry me?”_

_…._

_No, not quite…_

_Resisting the urge to scream, he sampled, “Adam Raki, be mine, marry me now!”_

_Too needy…_

_Damn!!_

_Feeling overheated the longer he thought about it and the harder he tried, Nigel had been just about ready to give up, when a small voice sounded at the back of his head._

_‘Go on, you old fart! He deserves to know how you feel! Stop being a fucking pussy!’_

_Rubbing his sore eyes, he inhaled a deep, long breath, steadying himself properly. Thankful in feeling the cold, hard floor beneath his feet supporting him, he shook his head lightly, and forced himself to get his shit together. _

_One…_

_Two…_

_Three…_

_“Adam, will you—”_

_His cell buzzing and vibrating loudly interrupted him. Not wanting Adam to wake up in fright, Nigel shoved the ring and its box back into his pocket, and then softly shut the closet door. Tiptoeing back towards one of the night tables, he snatched his phone off its cold surface before exiting the room to answer Darko’s incoming call. _

_With a strained sigh, he took one long last look over his shoulder at Adam draped over the bed. If there was one thing he knew for certain, it was that his darling always looked so happy and peaceful when asleep. _

_So radiant…so lovely… _

_“Goodnight, my darling.”_

_The door clicked shut too softly. _


End file.
